Dracula's Secret Keeper
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: Ileana, the niece of Victor Frankenstein, finds her world swept into a storm of nightmares when a man turns up at their Romanian home one evening, proclaiming a strange interest in one of Victor's experiments; the ability to create life through science.
1. In the name of science!

**I do not claim that any of the Van Helsing characters are mine, nor is the plot that will come much later in the story.**

"Is this really necessary?"

Ileana released an indignant huff of air as a pine branch slipped past her hand and swung forward, smacking her rather abruptly in the face. Eyes narrowing, she pushed the branch away once more, then glanced down. Her uncle stood at the bottom of the tree, bundled up in a thick jacket, scarf, hat, set of mittens (which were dangling from his sleeves) and feet clad in rather heavy boots. She wondered if he would ever adjust to the cold of Romania, but when she noted that he hadn't heard her - clearly too engrossed in whatever he was hastily scribbling in his notebook - she repeated the question a little louder, the stress in her voice evident this time. Her uncle, Victor, glanced up, frowned, then pulled the scarf down from around his mouth and nose, "What was that, darling?"

"I just don't see how this is necessary..."

"We're discovering things, Poppet," he replied pleasantly, grinning up at her, "I mean... We can always assume that our work isn't necessary, until we find out the results!"

Her brown eyes shifted from her uncle to the make-shift net that had been constructed moments before she started to climb the pine tree outside their Romanian manor. It didn't seem stable in any way, shape, or form, and yet she was now supposed to put her life in its hands and leap into it? Hmm.

"But, uncle Victor-"

"In the name of science, my dear, we must not second guess ourselves!" he pressed, tapping his pencil to his notebook, which was full of detailed workings for this experiment, and countless others that had been performed within the last few months. "Now, simply tell me when you are ready to fall, then I can time you."

The young woman released a series of unmentionable words under her breath as she continued to climb to the highest point of the tree, which she had been instructed to do beforehand.

"We shall find the rate of gravity, the rate at which a normal person falls," he explained, pulling his scarf back up as a particularly cold gust of air swept through the property. "Aim for the net, Ileana."

It wasn't that she didn't trust her beloved uncle, but the glee in his voice as he talked about letting her leap from a tree into a net - a task that would surely mark her death - wasn't sitting well with her.

But then again, it should be expected. Victor Frankenstein, the brother of her deceased father, was a man of science. He adored everything about it, and there was nothing anyone could do to persuade him to give it up. The man wrote texts for universities across Europe, and constantly made suggestions to review boards for new experiments for which he needed their funding for. Naturally, there were many that were rejected. Victor was a risk taker, Ileana knew, but it still broke her heart to see how crushed he was when someone told him that his work was too dangerous to earn their funding.

Ileana had been living with Victor since she was ten, and had moved to Romania as his ward after her parents died. Ten years ago, her shire in England was hit with a rather nasty swoop of a weak strain of the plague, and while many survived it, her parents were hit hard. They lasted about four months before the disease consumed them. Unfortunately, no one else in England could afford to take on another child; prices for goods were on the rise and wages were, regrettably, staying the same. Many of her relatives spoke ill of Victor Frankenstein. He was the eccentric one in the family; he had packed up and moved when he was twenty, leaving England to live in Eastern Europe. Apparently, various countries tickled his fancy until he settled into the mountains of Romania. He took to a village where the land was cheap and had a house built there, for which he had three servants brought in from England to run it while he worked his science.

He was a kind man. A bit of a recluse, Ileana soon discovered, but a kind man all the same. He took pity on her for not having a place to go, and was all too happy to take on his estranged brother's child without asking for a hint of money to compensate for her room and board. Unfortunately, the man had no experience with the Romanian culture. The people frightened him, he couldn't speak the language, and usually sent the maid out to fetch food and supplies. The same was passed onto Ileana; while she never feared the people, she was not given the privilege to experience them first hand. She was kept inside to work on her studies, and that was about all she was allowed to do. When she was older, she was slowly allowed to start taking part in his experiments more often, and soon, once she had finished with her lessons, she joined on as his assistant. While most were against a woman learning the scientific art that her uncle held so close to his heart, he was quite open to having a research assistant. It split up the work, he claimed.

And now, here they were, Ileana up a pine tree at the edge of their property, snow covering the ground and the harsh Romanian wind swooping through the nearby forest, and her uncle stood at the bottom, dressed from head to toe to keep out the cold. She was supposed to jump. Take a leap of faith and pray that the group would be forgiving if the net didn't hold. Good gracious, this wasn't how she would have it end, should this be the end. Clearing her throat, she glanced down once more as she neared the top, her lengthy brown hair swept up into a tight bun to keep the branches from tearing at her hair. It was a long way down.

"All right, Ileana," Victor called from the bottom, his light eyes gazing up at her. "When I tell you to jump, jump! I'll count the rate at which you fall. It will be fine, I promise."

"But, uncle-"

"This is in the name of science, my child!" he argued, a pleading tone oddly present in his voice, "For science, Ileana. Just think of where we can go when we know the proper, fine tune rate of gravity! The possibilities are endless!"

Oh, Ileana knew about gravity. As much as her textbooks could tell her. It would drag her down to the depths, if it could, and the depths weren't exactly inviting at this point. Swallowing thickly, she awkwardly pulled the cloak around her thick dress tighter to her body with one hand, the other arm wrapped firmly around the trunk of the massive tree. This was suicide. It was suicide in the making, and there was no way she could stop it.

"All right, on my mark-"

"Master Frankenstein?"

The soothing tone of their exceptionally English butler, Edgar, interrupted her uncle's countdown to her doom, and Ileana let out a heavy sigh of relief, the frosty breath swirling around her face for a moment before vanishing.

"Yes, Edgar?"

The poor old man looked just about as frozen as Ileana was, and she worried about him being out in the cold like this. Tonight the wind was rather violent, like a bad omen in the air, and part of her wondered if it would simply sweep down and carry Edgar away.

"A Lord Vladislaus Dragulia here to see you, sir."

"Oh, goodness, was that tonight?"

"I'm afraid it was, though he missed his alloted time. He is much later than originally planned."

"Not a problem, not a problem," Victor bustled pleasantly, his head cocking up toward Ileana. "Come down, chick pea. We'll finish this another night. There's a visitor I think you should meet too... He's interested in my latest experiment, and has some business deals to discuss. Come, come."

"Thank God," she whispered softly, easing her way down the pine tree as her uncle took down the flimsy net nearby and handed it to Edgar, "Put it aside, Edgar. We'll use it some other time."

A white eyebrow raised on the slim butler, and he folded the netting in half, "Shall I make it a little sturdier, Master Frankenstein?"

"Oh, please do," Ileana remarked quickly, cutting her uncle off. "Thank you, Edgar."

He nodded, giving her a knowing look, then turned back toward the house. Her uncle clapped his hands together once, as though dusting off his hard day of work, then grinned, "I think you'll like this fellow, Ileana. He has some very promising propositions to make, and I think he may be the benefactor we've been looking for. Come along, can't keep him waiting!"

He placed an arm awkwardly around her shoulder, and the pair began their hasty march back toward the house, their boots sinking into the growing piles of snow. All the while, Ileana couldn't help but muse to herself; perhaps this arrival, this Romanian Lord (by the sound of the name he was certainly local) had just saved her life. For some strange reason, she felt as though she owed him something.


	2. The Meeting

I do not claim to own any of the Van Helsing characters, nor do I own the plot from the movie that will appear later in the story.

* * *

"Where's his horse?"

Ileana's brown eyes searched the grounds in front of her and her uncle's house feverishly for several long moments, frowning when she noted that the one sort of transport that these people used here was absent. Her uncle had taken no notice of it when they had returned to the warmth of the indoors, but Ileana had taken several long moments to pause behind the window frame. If he didn't have a horse, then where was the carriage? Wasn't he a Lord of some sort?

"I find it best not to dwell on their cultures," Edgar insisted, placing a gentle hand on her arm and steering her from the door, "or it will frustrate you. Simply let them be, I think. Now, your uncle has wandered off to meet this fellow, and would like for you to join him. Are you dressed for the occasion, or will be you changing?"

She glanced down, smoothing her hands over the plain blue dress she had on, then shrugged her shoulders, "Do you think it's necessary?"

"Hardly," the man replied, his own hands folded neatly in front of him, her used cloak intact. "He was very keen on talking with your uncle... It won't matter if you aren't completely prim tonight. Perhaps it'll play you off to be the scientist apprentice you are."

The young woman blinked, shocked that Edgar considered her to be anything more than 'just a woman', then grinned, "Thank you, Edgar."

"Of course, Miss Ileana. Now run along... Don't let your uncle be talked into something foolish. He seems very excited."

Oh, that was never good. Nodding her head, the woman scurried into the house, a trail of thick and melting candles illuminating her way through the hallway toward the sitting room, in which she could already hear her uncle schmoozing. Well, not schmoozing. The man was genuinely excited that someone was interested in his work, and when that opportunity arose, she knew he wasn't one to just pass it up.

"I must apologize for the lateness of the hour-"

"Oh, don't be sorry... I know how the roads can get when you're trying to find your way out here," Victor insisted firmly, cutting off the distinctly Transylvanian voice in a heartbeat. Ileana raised an eyebrow, then stepped into the doorway, hesitant to make her presence known until she had gotten a look at this Lord Vladislaus fellow.

Even from a distance, the man reeked of aristocracy. Tall, taller than Victor by any means, with elegant robes that immediately told Ileana he was a man with money. They were all black, strangely - she had read that the nobles here liked to flash about in colour and vibrancy, though she had never seen one up close - with gold buckles holding his jacket together. Sturdy riding boots on his feet (odd, considering there was no horse outside) and black gloves in one hand, as though he had only just removed them. His skin was as pale as the snow that was currently pelting their house; would it be as cold? Ha. What a laugh. Her eyes traveled upward, studying his face for several long moments as he made soft apologies for being so late. He had blue eyes, sharply contrasting the black hair that was strung up in a ponytail at the back of his head. Typically aristocratic cheekbones, she noted, with a thin mouth and a slightly rounded nose. He could be seen as attractive, mostly because men were so foreign to the young woman; how could she be expected to understand them in any sense when she was never allowed to spend time with them? The professors from her uncle's visiting universities were ancient, and could hardly be considered good company for someone her age. But this man... Well, let's just say he looked a little closer to her than any of the others. Not as though he was in his teens; if she had to average a guess, she'd say he was in his late thirties, early forties. She felt her eyes drifting back to his, and suddenly they were met with harsh blue tones. The young woman inhaled a bit of air, shocked, and Victor's incessant chattering halted for a moment.

"Oh, right, silly me!" he blabbed, striding toward Ileana purposefully and grasping her wrist, "Let me introduce you to my niece. She is my laboratory assistant, and has been working with me while she finishes her studies."

"Ah yes, you told me of her in your letters," the man insisted as her uncle led her into the room, "though I had expected someone older, with the way you described her."

"Nonsense," Victor snorted, patting her back when his sweaty hand finally released her wrist, "she's been very diligent with her studies, I saw to that, and she is a valuable asset to my research."

The man's eyebrow raised, and he gave her something of a half-smile, "Pleased to meet you."

"And you, sir," she returned, dipping her head down in compliance. He held out a hand and she immediately placed hers in it, her cheeks flushing as he brought her slim one up to his mouth for a kiss. Traditionally English, she mused. Had he been a frequent visitor of the island? The man spoke wonderful English, despite his accent, highlighting an educated background.

"And what may I call you?"

She cocked her head to the side, surprised for only a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, "Ileana is fine with me, sir."

"Then you may call me 'Count'," he noted, releasing her hand finally. It was as cold as she had predicted earlier, which was strange; wasn't he wearing gloves when he came in? Surely the elements wouldn't be able to seep through. "It suits my rank more."

"You're a Count?" Victor interjected, bringing the attention back to him rather abruptly, "Oh, how interesting! I can't say we've ever had the pleasure of meeting a Count, have we, Ileana?"

The young woman shook her head briefly, her eyes still on him, and her uncle immediately ordered the two of them to have a seat on the nearby couches, which were placed tastefully in front of a rather elegant fireplace, the only source of pure heat in the room. Once they had settled in, the Count sitting at the opposite of Ileana and her uncle, Ileana noted that Victor was ready to launch right into conversation. He was licking his lips, legs were bouncing, and he could barely hide the glee in his eyes.

"Can we fetch you something to drink, Count?" she asked quickly, knowing that her uncle would probably forget his manners. The man across from her smiled faintly, as though he had only inside joke that he wouldn't share with her, then shook his head, "I never drink at a business meeting, but thank you."

Not even a tea or coffee? They had just gotten some rather expensive coffee beans shipped in from South America the week before, and her uncle had been insistent on showing them off to anyone that stopped into the house, even the man who delivered their milk. This business must have been serious if he hadn't even thought to bring it up.

"Now then, straight to business," Victor said quickly, leaning forward on the couch, his hands folded in his lap - they'd probably fly all over the place if he didn't. "Tell me what you are interested in me doing, Count."

There was a thoughtful pause from the aristocrat, and he sighed, "I'm interested in facilitating your latest experiment. I do not wish to take anything from you... I merely want to house you, give you the best equipment money can buy, and watch your creative genius bring something to life. It intrigues me... You claim to be able to create a man from scratch?"

"Oh, certainly!"

Ileana's eyes widened; they couldn't be talking about this experiment! It was a ridiculous fancy that Victor had been playing with for a few years now. He had sent the proposal off to several researching facilities around Europe, but a letter always returned in the mail informing him that the research was too pricey, or a predicted fail was in the future.

"How is that possible? Surely only God can bring beings to life."

"Not necessarily," Victor replied, ignoring the slight protesting groan that Ileana released beneath her breath. "You see, I interject electricity into the proper vaults, cables and electrons, and find that I can bring things to life! Now, I don't have the proper facilities to see whether it would last long term, but if you really want to help me, then perhaps we could find out together."

"I intend to make good on my word, Victor," the Count declared, a genuine smile on his lips now, "and I merely wanted to tell you in person that I am extremely interested in your work, and I have a spare castle in Transylvania that would be perfect for your research."

A spare castle? Her eyebrows shot up at the wording, and she couldn't help but ponder just how rich this man was. How on Earth did her uncle come into contact with him? She knew that the man had been writing letters, a lot of letter, to someone lately, but she had secretly hoped it would have been to their family back in England. Hopes of rekindling that relationship were growing fainter and fainter it seemed.

"M-Move to Transylvania?" Victor inquired, glancing to his niece for a moment, "You mean we would have to pack everything and-"

"Hardly, Victor," the Count soothed, "I will ensure that the castle is furnished to your taste. I shall spare no expense."

Although she had could see her uncle acting on his emotions, Ileana knew she had to take a step back and analyze the situation. Why was he offering all this? Was he simply a rich boy who wanted to impress his friends by taking an interest in something scientific? Would he want to keep whatever they produced?

"But, naturally, I will give you time to think it over," he continued, his eyes casting a glance in Ileana's direction. "I need to attend other business in the next village, which should take three days. I will return then to have your answer, Victor."

"We can give it now-"

"Thank you, Count," Ileana proclaimed loudly, cutting her uncle off. "Time, I think, is what we need."

The man nodded, then rose to his feet, quickly followed by both Ileana and her uncle, "Then I shall not keep you up any later. Thank you for your time, Victor, and I sincerely hope you take up my offer."

"Oh, there is little doubt in my mind that I won't," Victor replied cheerfully, lunging across the space to shake the man's hand. "It's so generous. Though Ileana is right, we need time to discuss it. If we accept your offer, when would be leave?"

"The day I return," the man retorted casually, gripping her uncle's hand for a moment, and then hastily pulling away. Her uncle glanced down at their hands, no doubt wondering why they were so icy, but was quick to return his attention to the Count as the man started to leave, "Until I return, Victor. Ileana."

Her uncle relayed his farewells repeatedly until the man had left the room, but Ileana was still unsatisfied with something. Before Victor could say a word to her, she rushed out of the room, her flat shoes clomping noisily in the hallway as she hurried down after the Count. Perhaps Victor would think she was being dramatic and storming off to her room; it would ensure that he wouldn't follow her.

"Is everything all right, Miss Ileana?"

"Fine, Edgar," she blurted quickly, grasping a cloak and throwing it around her shoulders before hurrying out the front door, ignoring the elderly man's protest about the growing storm. The Count's retreating figure could be seen casually strolling down their uneven walkway, though the wind was something rather fierce now; Ileana could hardly stand in it, but he seemed unbothered by it. Perhaps Romanians were simply much more adapted to their climate.

"Count!" she called over the wind, fearing for a moment that her voice would be lost in the gale. However, he seemed to, by some miracle, hear her, and turned around, which prompted her to rush forward. Her breathing was heavy as she moved, the frosty breath dancing elegantly in front of her for a moment before being swept away in the wind. When she was close enough to see the Count's face - he too had moved closer to bridge the gap between them - she noted that he looked slightly irritated to have been stopped, but there was something else to it too. Something she couldn't put her finger on. Her pulse was rapid.

"You'll catch your death out here, Ileana," he insisted in a rather matter-of-fact tone. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I want to know what you want from us," she said bluntly, holding her arms around her body, "because no one is as generous as you are without wanting something in return. I'm not as easily blinded with the idea of furthering an experiment as my uncle is, and I want to know what you are going to do with us."

He blinked, then glanced back to the house, as though waiting to see if her uncle would suddenly appear in the curtains, using his niece as his voice of concern. When he seemed satisfied that there was no one else with them, he frowned at her, "I want to make leaps in the world of science, but I do not have the brain your uncle has. I am genuinely interested in his experiment, and I want to see it succeed. Giving you and your uncle accommodations and staff to look after you are only the first few things needed. I do not wish to mislead you into thinking I want something in return. Perhaps my name in with the journals that will be written when we succeed, but nothing more."

"You want the fame?"

"I want to see the product."

"How did you meet my uncle?"

"He came into contact with me... You'll need to ask him that."

"Why do you care?"

"Why are you so worried?"

"I don't want to see him hurt."

She hadn't noticed, but as their banter continued, she had been taking steps closer, perhaps to try and assert some sort of dominance of the situation, but all it had really done was draw her in toward his body. When she realized their proximity, she stepped back, embarrassed that she had let herself do that.

"Your concern is appreciated," he told her softly, finally moving a step closer to her, despite her moving back, "and should you feel that anything is not in your uncle's best interest, you should not hesitate to tell me. But he wants this. It is his experiment, and you are merely along for the ride, I think."

Ileana fell silent with a frown, knowing that he was more correct than she wanted to give him credit for. Glaring, she could feel the wind ripping her hair from its restraints, but she wouldn't pause in her stance to fix such a frivolous thing.

"Have you both never heard of me?" he inquired, changing the subject rather abruptly. Her frown deepened, and she shook her head. A strange look of satisfaction crossed his face, and he gave her a rather sweeping bow, "I shall return in three days time, Ileana. I hope you are packed by then."

"I wouldn't count on it," she murmured softly, hoping the wind would disguise her disobedient tone. The man released a rather thunderous laugh, then bowed once more before turning on his heel and vanishing into the night.


	3. Safe travels?

I do not claim to own any of the Van Helsing characters, or the plot in the later half of the story.

* * *

Her room seemed so empty.

There was a strange feeling, to pack up everything that she possessed, and then simply stand in the doorway. It wasn't as though she had a lot of belongings, nor did her small room seem too out of place without her books and clothes, but it seemed oddly empty. There was an eeriness to the room, which was on the first floor, closest to the kitchen, when none of her black and white pictures littered the walls (most were from newspaper clippings that she found artistic) and her books no longer lined the various shelves along her wall. Even her small bed had been stripped by the maid, and her sheets had been packed away in one of the numerous bags she would be hauling with her to the north.

Victor had accepted the Count's offer. She knew he was going to, though somewhere in her mind she had hoped that the Romanian noble would retract his offer. The experiment was risky, and after having read over his notes on countless occasions, she couldn't help but predict failure. It involved creating a man from the remains of other men, then using the natural elements to bring him to life. There was a reason so many professors and scholars had rejected his proposals, so why should this Count think he knew any better? Naturally, Ileana had expressed these concerns to her uncle repeatedly whenever she could over the three days that they were given to pack. Victor, unfortunately, was jus too happy with the current situation to even fathom rejecting the offer.

And so there they were, ready to leave their home for ten years behind, along with Edgar and the rest of the staff, to travel to Transylvania in the name of science. Blasted science. There were times when it proved to be nothing but a nuisance. Sure, she found it fascinating, but the sheer power it had over her uncle was frightening, to be perfectly honest.

"Come along, Ileana!"

She could hear him calling her from the doorway, though the thunder from outside nearly overpowered him. The Count had arrived an hour earlier with two carriages - one for luggage, and one for the passengers - and Edgar and the Count's servants had been loading bags of equipment ever since. Ileana had two bags - one for clothes and the other for books - while Victor had dozens containing various laboratory pieces and thick texts that were supposed to help him in the process of creating this living being. Poor Edgar; those damn bags must have been so heavy.

With a sigh, she gave her old room one final glance, then closed the door, shutting it out of her life for God knows how long. She heard her uncle shout for her one last time, and she quickly scuttled down the hallway, a black shawl wrapped around her slim shoulders, feet covered in brown boots, and clad in a green dress, which was plain. Her dressing style had never been very elaborate, though she pondered if that was because she lived here, with her uncle. Had she been in England, perhaps she would have had a more extravagant wardrobe. Bu this dress suited her just fine; it was a dark pine green, with a square-cut neck, and sleeves that were tight around her arms. In her eyes, it was attractive and practical, but it was also quite warm. Hopefully the carriage doors were kept shut, lest the little heat they had would escape.

"For Heaven's sake, chick pea, what were you doing?" Victor inquired hastily as Ileana stumbled out the front door, wrinkling her nose at the mix of snow and rain that was pelting down from the sky. Edgar was loading the last bag into the second carriage, and she noted that the door to the first was open a crack, and she immediately assumed the count was waiting inside. Victor was still holding a large bag, no doubt filled with books for the five hour journey north, though he was once again giddy with glee.

"I was merely saying goodbye," she replied, pulling her shawl over her head to keep her loose hair from being completely drenched in the downpour. This was the worst sort of precipitation, mostly because it was both cold and wet.

Edgar was at the door in a moment, clearly out of breath but trying to retain as much dignity as he could, "Farewell to you both. I shall miss you while I take my leave to England."

"Enjoy your trip home, old chap," Victor insisted, patting the man on the arm, "I suspect your family will be quite happy to see you."

"Yes," Edgar grinned cheekily, nodding his head, "I suppose they will be."

"Safe travels, Edgar," Ileana sighed, slipping her arms around his mid-section in a hug. She felt him return the embrace momentarily, and they both quickly stepped away, knowing it was too inappropriate to keep the hug lasting. "The same to you, Ileana."

With a final nod, she turned to follow her uncle toward the carriage, cursing the presence of the storm under her breath as she went. He seemed to lack manners whenever he was excited, as Victor hastily clambered into the carriage without bothering to hold open the door for her, or let her choose one of the four possible spots to sit. In fact, as she hauled herself into the small compartment, she was more than annoyed to find that he had taken up a whole bench for himself and his books, leaving the only available spot next to the Count.

He looked the same as he had the last time she saw him, though that snide smirk he had worn so triumphantly upon departure was missing. The same clothes, the same thick cloak, and the same black gloves to cover his icy hands. The same hairstyle, the same earring hanging from his right ear. The same everything. The only difference now was the look of satisfaction on his lips, though his eyes seemed hollow.

"Sit down, dumpling," Victor ordered as he rummaged through his bag. "We want to get moving quickly, don't we, Count? Want to outrun the storm, eh?"

"Indeed, Victor," the Count mused, no doubt humouring him. "Do you have enough room here, Ileana?"

She pursed her lips, then forced a smile, "Yes, thank you, Count."

And with that, she settled into the seat next to him, pressing herself up against the side of the carriage so that they wouldn't be touching. How inappropriate. Didn't her uncle see the mishaps that this brought? Why couldn't he put the bag next to the Count, and Ileana could sit next to him?

The Count pushed open the glass window, poking his head out into the storm momentarily, and then shouted something in Romanian at the drivers. There was a sudden lunge forward and the crack of a whip, and it was apparent that there was no turning back now. She pushed the lace curtain aside from her own window, trying to get some more light into the cabin than what the small lamps offered, but the storm seemed to block out the moon completely. Why the Count insisted on traveling at night, when all the hoodlums and robbers would roam the woods, was completely beyond her understanding. Perhaps he was one of those rich sods that saw themselves as untouchable. It was only a matter of time before something happened that would shake that confidence, she mused.

"It seems you bring the storms with you, Count," she deduced, watching as the thick black clouds moved in the harsh winds as their carriage hurried along the uneven country roads. There was a particularly large bump - most likely a root sticking out from a nearby tree - and while Victor had been facing backward and was hardly affected by it, Ileana felt her body lurch forward. The young woman braced herself, ready to face plant into the bag of books in front of her, but the Count's arm was suddenly in front of her, pushing back against her shoulders to keep her in place.

"It's a coincidence, I think," the Count drawled, his eyes on her for a moment, then across to Victor. "The roads to Transylvania are terrible. I cannot promise that will be the last of the disturbances."

"There was a disturbance?" Victor inquired, glancing at Ileana, then returning to his bag, "I hadn't noticed. Suppose they can only get worse, eh?"

"Can't wait," Ileana murmured, pulling the traveling cloak off and changing it into something of a blanket. "How much longer will this ride be?"

"Another five hours, four if my drivers work the horses," the Count replied, easing himself into a more comfortable position on his side of the leather bench. "Perhaps you should get some sleep. We will arrive in the early hours of the morning."

"I figured as much," she commented absently, shifting her body about in order to get into a position that wouldn't cause a crick in her neck when she woke up. While she was anxious about this whole venture, the woman could feel herself getting strangely sleepy. Sleepier than she usually was at this time of night, anyway.

She glanced across to her uncle, and noted that he was already engrossed in one of his texts, no doubt looking for some interesting scientific discovery to dazzle the Count with. If this Romanian was a man of science, like he said he was, then he was sure to find Victor's chatter interesting. Up to a certain point, anyway.

Her eyes slowly drifted closed, seemingly against her will, and she let out a relaxed sigh, arms resting contently under her cloak, and before she knew what was happening, her world was engulfed in darkness.

************************************************************************

When Ileana next felt herself returning to consciousness, something felt different. Her head was no longer pressed against the cold glass of the window, but against something just as hard, but warmer. Had someone pulled the curtain closed while she slept? Groaning softly, she pulled her hand out from beneath the cloak and pressed down toward the seat, trying to push herself up. However, it wasn't the seat that she was touching... In fact, it felt more like a leg. Her eyes shot open, horrified, and she hastily pushed herself away from the Count, who she assumed she had been sleeping for some time.

"I'm terribly sorry!" she said quickly, wiping at her mouth (in case she had been drooling, or something) and quickly trying to control her wavy hair. She should have put it up... It was always such a mess after she slept. "I didn't even notice-"

"It's fine," he said softly, cutting her off. "I didn't have the heart to wake you. You seemed so tired when we left."

"Yes, strangely enough," she agreed, noting that all the curtains had been pushed back from the windows, and the moonlight was now twinkling in. The storm had stopped, and while Victor slept soundly on top of his books on the opposite bench, Ileana felt wide awake and alert. Outside, the stars glittered delicately in the sky, and she could see a village nestled between mountains in a valley below the road. In the distance, she could make out the outline of towers, and she assumed that it was her new home.

"Is that where we'll be staying?" she asked curiously, leaning over the Count just a touch to get a better look. He too glanced out the window, then smirked, "Yes. It's one of my many castles in the area. I've just had it refurnished for your liking."

"You had it refurnished before we told you we were going to accept your offer?" Ileana droned skeptically, shooting him a look, "That seems somewhat over-confident. How did you know my uncle would agree?"

"Because I'm good at reading people," he replied simply, his blue eyes wandering her face, "I'm good at judging what they want, although not necessarily what they need. You could say that I know what makes their heart pound."

"Really?" Ileana scoffed, sliding back and raising an eyebrow at him, "I'm sure it's a rare talent, Count."

"I'd like to think so."

Pursing her lips again, Ileana settled back into a silence that lasted the remainder of the carriage ride, which was blessedly shorter than she had expected. Had she slept the entire ride? It certainly felt like it.

When the carriage started to slow down, she noted that they had bypassed the village, and a small river divided her new home from the quiet houses on the other side. It seemed dead, this village, expect for the few lights flickering here and there in random windows. How strange. When she knew that she wouldn't lose her balance if she stood, Ileana pushed herself carefully across the way to her uncle, rousing him from his slumber. He yawned noisily, then sat up, rubbing his eyes and face, "Are we there already? It feels as though I only just shut my eyes a moment ago."

"I feel the same," she whispered, bracing herself as she felt the carriage come to a complete stop in a dreary looking courtyard. Taking a quick peek out the window, she noted that the castle seemed just as depressing. High stone wall encircled them in the courtyard, though she could see light seeping out of the stain glass windows.

"See, four hours on the nose," the Count chuckled happily, and Ileana glanced over her shoulder, watching as he stood up, with a stooped head mind you, seeing as the cabin was too low for him to properly stand up in. He pushed the door to the carriage open, and she shivered as a swirl of cold air twirled in, engulfing them all swiftly.

"Oh, isn't that air crisp?" Victor mused, rising hurriedly after the Count and stumbling out of their transportation, leaving Ileana by herself for a moment. Something about all of this didn't feel right. This couldn't be right, could it? A hand suddenly appeared in the doorway, and she noted that the Count had waited for her, as any gentleman should, while Victor took it upon himself to check on his luggage in the next carriage. With another lengthy sigh, Ileana took the man's hand and he graciously helped her out of the cabin, even taking it upon himself to catch her when she missed her footing on the ground. It was hard to sit for such a long time, you know?

"Thank you," she murmured, stepping away from him as quickly as she could and readjusting the cloak around her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she wrinkled her nose, noting a strange scent in the air, "Why does it smell like... wet dog around here?"

The Count seemed irritated for the shortest of moments, and Ileana nearly missed the expression, as he was quick to change it to something that was much more placid, "The villagers have dogs... Keeps the wolves out of the town. With the fresh rainfall, you cannot expect them to smell pleasant."

"Wolves?" Ileana echoed, worry etched in her tone, "There are wolves out here?"

"More than you would get down south, I suppose," he replied pleasantly, flicking a hand toward a servant near the large iron gate at the archway in the stone wall, "but the gates shall keep them out, I promise. We have never had a problem with wolves on the castle grounds."

"Oh," she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself in consolidation, "I've also heard stories about the werewolves up here. Is that all fiction, Count, or is there truth to the myths?"

There was a sudden commotion at the second carriage, and both Ileana and the Count whipped around to see that a bag of equipment had seemingly tackled Victor to the ground. Trying to lift more than he could handle, as it were. In an instant, the coach drivers were there to lift it off him. Ileana shook her head, then started toward him, only to be stopped when a firm hand grasped her upper arm, holding her in that spot.

"Werewolves are a nuisance up here," he murmured delicately, his voice making her insides twist fiercely, "and when the night comes, I suggest staying inside. There are worse things than wolves in the forests."

Her eyes shot up to his, wide and terrified, and she searched the blue orbs that met her stare, hoping that there would be a joke in them. He seemed so stern, so serious, but suddenly emitted a laugh, the same laugh he had given to her the night she confronted him about his ulterior motives behind all his generosity.

"Werewolves are about as real as vampires, Ileana," he insisted, releasing her arm and fixing her cloak for her, "and I hope you'll pardon me for wanting to have some fun. I so seldom get to play with foreigners here in Transylvania."

Her mouth opened and closed several times, and she tried desperately not to give him the satisfaction of frightening her, "Very funny, Count. Don't tell my uncle that joke, or he'll be right back in the carriage home."

Oh, there was an idea. He frowned at her, and she noticed that the mirth had been momentarily replaced, "Then perhaps we should just keep this joke to ourselves, hmm? Can't have your uncle leaving now, can we?"

"No... I suppose not."


	4. Think what you want

The whole ordeal was just so... over the top. Ileana had spent her first evening watching as her uncle and the Count's carriage drivers moved all the current equipment into the lab, and when Victor insisted that he would need to travel home to ensure the rest of it arrived safely, the Count was quick to offer up the chance of getting new equipment. He would place an order in for it, and it would arrive within two weeks from Bucharest, the capital. Pleased to not have to make the lengthy trip twice, Victor agreed and that was that. The wolves were howling like mad the night she had arrived, and while she explored the dark castle on her own - Victor was elsewhere with the Count, admiring the state of the art laboratory that the Count had constructed in the eastern section of the place - she couldn't help but feel haunted by the stone walls. They had a prison-esque feel to them, and she always felt as though the eyes in the old portraits were watching her, following her steps with their hollow orbs. While she would never express her unhappiness with the castle outwardly, inwardly she felt at odds. Their home in the country was just so quaint. It wasn't small by any means, but the castle felt so cold and distant, much like the Count. Once they had removed all their belongings from the carriage, they seemed to vanish into the night, and Victor and Ileana were left alone. The Count insisted he would return the next day to help them properly settle in.

Naturally, Victor chose a bedroom on the first floor. It was directly below his lab, and she was pretty sure a staircase led up and into his workshop... There would be countless late nights with him using those stairs, and she pondered whether or not it was a good thing to let him have that room. There was no talking him out of it though; it was small, minimalistic, but large enough for at least two decent sized bookcases. Ileana, on the other hand, had moved away from the first floor and its kitchens to a room in one of the four towers. It faced the top of the laboratory, which was at the bottom of the opposing tower. There was a small lavatory below the circular room, and she had to admit that it wasn't the biggest dwelling in the castle. There were a lot of empty ones below, and while they were larger, this one seemed to suit her. There was a balcony, perhaps two feet out, for her to see the small village across the river from them, which was a pleasant view in the morning. Her bed was larger than the one back home, and while she simply slept on her blankets for the first night, she would need to go to the village and purchase larger sheets to make it proper. Her books fit neatly into the one shelf that she had been provided with, and the young woman had decided that the skilled art of putting up picture clippings would have to wait for a later date. For now, they remained in her bag.

Despite the fact she had already slept for five or four hours on the carriage ride to Transylvania, she was absolutely bushed once she had unpacked a little, and sleep came easily, despite the fact she was feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. When she awoke the next morning, she found herself greeted with what appeared to be another miserable day. The clouds hung low in the skies, blocking out the sun completely, and the trees had a fresh layer of snow on them, leaving the roads icy and somewhat dangerous looking. As she peered out the window in her dressing robe, she noted that the bridge that crossed from the castle to the other side of the river appeared unstable at best, and there was a sinking feeling in her heart that it was made to look like that on purpose.

Dressing somewhat plainly in a brown dress with white cuffs and a circular neckline, Ileana made her way down to the kitchen, feet covered in small black shoes to keep out the chill. The castle was warmer on the first floor, namely because of all the fireplaces that were keeping it heated, and she could smell the scent of fresh bread before she made it into the eatery. Quite unshocked, she noted that the Count was there, showing her uncle how some of the more modern cooking devices worked while Victor watched with awe.

"Good morning," she greeted, pushing some hair behind her ear. Victor was the faster of the two to look back, and he beamed, "Morning, chick pea. The Count has just brought us some breakfast... Says the food will be delivered by a villager once a week, so we don't have to go down there ourselves. Isn't that kind of him?"

Ileana smiled briefly, then nodded, "Very. It seems your generosity knows no limit, Count."

"Some could say that," he mused, flinching as Victor pushed a rather large knife through a piece of hard fruit, grinning at his accomplishment when the blade slid halfway through. "The villagers are a pest, to be frank. I was hoping to spare you the task of having to deal with them."

"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to, as I need to find larger bed sheets for my bed in the tower," she insisted politely, sidling into the kitchen and over toward Victor, who seemed to be struggling to get the knife out of the fruit. Clucking her tongue at him, she pushed him aside gently, then eased the knife out, rolling her eyes inwardly. The Count frowned, "I'll send for new bedding from the capital. It'll be better quality."

"Ah, but that will take two weeks to get here," she argued, keeping a firm smile on her lips. "Don't fret, Count. I can walk into the village and buy what needs to be bought."

"Nonsense," he chuckled coldly, his eyes fixed on her, "I'll have some brought over from my palace by a servant... Then you'll have good quality bedding until your own arrives in from the capital."

"But-"

"Ileana, stop being difficult," Victor chided, snatching up half of the fruit and stuffing it in his mouth. "She'll do with whatever you give her, Count. Now, when are we starting the interviews?"

Her eyes had not left the Count's, though he was the first to look away, seeming to put their argument about bedding off for now. She turned away and helped herself to a large slice of bread, then fumbled around the somewhat empty cupboards until she found the tin of jam that Victor had brought with him. The man liked his jam.

"The interviews will start in an hour... I have a lot of men lined up to help you. All of them are eager young scientists."

"Excellent," Victor trilled, popping the last bit of fruit into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully for a moment, "and I should hope you will stay for the meetings. I'd always like a second opinion."

Ileana coughed on her mouthful of bread, shooting her uncle a rather annoyed look; didn't her opinion matter for anything? Clearly not when it came to choosing a second assistant to help around in the massive laboratory. Stowing her anger for now, she continued to eat her piece of bread in silence, leaning back against the wooden cabinets as the Count and her uncle spoke.

"Oh, I had every intention of staying," the Count assured him. "After all, some of the men are from my country, and I'm sure they will behave themselves if I'm present. Most over here take the English for granted, I must admit."

Ileana recalled his joke from the night before, then rolled her eyes, pushing the last bit of bread into her mouth before wiping her hands on her dress, "Well, are there other sorts of men too? Any Englishmen on that list?"

"Two," he informed her, his blue eyes returning to match her. "Both from London... Both are university students."

"Excellent," Ileana mused, "I think it will be refreshing to meet someone from home."

"Oh, but we want culture in the house, gosling," Victor said suddenly. "Where are my manners... Count! Would you like something to eat?"

The taller man wrinkled his nose at the second half of the fruit that was held out for him, then took a step back, shaking his head, "I've already eaten, Victor. This is for you and your niece."

"Oh, all right then."

She rolled her eyes once again, then released a sigh, "How many applicants sighed up for today?"

"Nearly thirty," the Count replied, "but I've only seen potential in a few."

"Hmm... It's going to be a very long day, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

Dear Lord, what a dull conversation. The kitchen was not equipped with a proper table and chair setting just yet, so they were forced to stand for the entirety of the meal, though it was mercifully cut short when a strong wind swept in and blew several of the windows in the hallway open, prompting her uncle and the Count to hurry off to close them. Her eyes peeked out the small pair of windows over the nearby slate countertop and she frowned; why was it that the Count always brought a storm with him? As soon as he had left their home in the south the weather was simply lovely - cold, but that couldn't be helped - and when he had departed the night before, Ileana noted that just before she fell asleep the sky had cleared.

Strange. Very strange indeed.

When Victor and Ileana had finished with their short breakfast, they were escorted by the Count to a sitting room, one of the few lavishly furnished rooms in the house, and it was there that they would hold interviews for each applicant. There were four couches in the room, each a royal red and they were centred around a fireplace, which the Count had taken to lighting once they arrived. There were maps of Romania up on the wall, as long as several that depicted the Eastern European alliances and countries in general. It was history in the making, and if she could, she would simply go from each to the other and admire the way the artist had drawn them. Perhaps she would even taken one when no one was around and hang it in her room.

"These look like highly skilled men, Count," Victor mused as he looked through a set of files while seated on one of the couches. "Wherever did you find them?"

"I have some friends in high places," the Count replied, stepping back as the wood in the fireplace was consumed with a flickering orange flame, "and they were happy to recommend them to me."

"We're so fortunate to have you with us," Victor mused softly, moving onto another applicant's file as Ileana settled down next to him, her brown eyes skimming the papers as her uncle worked through them. The Count simply bowed his head, "I am interested in seeing this experiment succeed, Victor, and I want talented individuals working on it..."

Ileana raised an eyebrow at him and her lips pursed; he didn't think that she and her uncle could handle the experiment on their own. That was probably the only reason he was bringing in people from the outside to help. It seemed like a pointless waste of time and effort, seeing as she and Victor were perfectly capable of performing the task; they had always done it in the past, and there was no reason why they couldn't do it now.

And so the application process started. The men would come and either sit or stand opposite Victor and Ileana (with the Count standing behind their couch, watching rather than speaking) and her uncle would ask them to explain their academic background. Once that was established, Victor would then tell them whether or not he was interested in speaking to them any longer. While her uncle was extremely excited about the experiment, he did not want anyone with less than six years of study working under him. For once he was putting his foot down, and Ileana had to admit that she was proud of him. The Count seemed particularly menacing while he stood behind her, and she noted that anyone that was not from Eastern Europe seemed particularly uncomfortable under his gaze. One of the lads from London - well, not lad... he was in his early forties - lost his place while speaking several times with the looks he was getting from the Romanian nobleman.

The day drained on rather slowly, and Ileana found herself bored with many of the applicants. They were a bit stuffy for her liking, and some had a lot of trouble speaking English. While her uncle wanted culture, she knew he also wanted someone that he could easily communicate with, and not being able to speak their mothertongue would be a problem. One of the men simply made Ileana uncomfortable. His name was Igor, and he gave no last name, but apparently he was local to the region, and despite his hunched back and pale complexion, he impressed Victor with his knowledge of science and electricity. The Count too seemed highly impressed, and when the man was gone, he suggested that they didn't need to see anymore applicants; Igor was the one. Ileana was hesitant at that, simply because there was something about the fellow that she couldn't quite put her finger on. He was ... odd. Creepy. Not someone she wanted to share a living space with. She suggested seeing just one more person, in case the next man was a brilliant marvel, and reluctantly the Count backed off his instance for Igor.

The next arrival suited her taste much more. He was tall, blond with blue eyes and when she glanced down at his references over Victor's shoulder, she noted that he was the second English bloke on the list. She grinned reassuringly at him and couldn't help but watch intently as her uncle grilled him for answers. He was tougher now, considering the man standing before them was quite young. Fresh out of university, he was, and had been studying science and countless related fields since he was a teen under private tutors. He spoke eloquently and had this natural charisma to him that the others seemed to lack. The young woman settled back on the couch, arms crossed and a satisfied grin on her lips. She knew exactly who she wanted working with them in the lab. The man was attractive, intelligent, and actually had a personality. Hector. That was his name. What a lovely name. When the interview had finished, he left the room with a bow, shooting Ileana a rather cheeky grin and a wink with it. Mercifully her uncle missed it, as he would never allow a man in the house if he thought he would try and flirt with his niece. What Victor didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Her heartbeat raced.

"I liked him," Ileana admitted quickly once the door to the study shut, shooting a look between the Count and her uncle. "He seemed more than able-"

"I don't know," Victor sighed, cutting her off as he rustled through the man's papers. "He seems a bit young."

"Young?" she countered, raising an eyebrow, "Young can be good, uncle. He's modern. He'll have something to teach us, just as you can teach him. Youth is never a bad thing."

"He's arrogant," the Count interjected with a frown, causing her to look back at him quickly. "I'm sure he already thinks that the job is his... You could tell by the way he spoke."

"Nonsense," Ileana snapped, not wanting to lose her chance at some normalcy around the household, "I thought he was modest and humble."

"Ah, but are you really one to judge men?" the Count inquired lightly, a smirk on his lips, "I wasn't aware you were such an expert in judging them..."

Ileana's jaw dropped; how dare he?! The Romanian turned his attention to Victor, "I still think Igor was the prime choice for this. He will be able to converse with the men who bring you supplies, and I see him as someone very dedicated to his work."

"I couldn't agree more, Count."

"Uncle!" Ileana hissed, eyes narrowing, "We mustn't be hasty with this decision... Hector was very-"

"The decision is not yours, Ileana," Victor informed her frankly, closing Hector's file and tossing it on the table, "and I agree with the Count... Igor is in. He's just what I've been looking for."

Was he serious? How could he be serious? Grinding her teeth together, she could feel a pout coming on. She hated to pout because it made her feel spoiled, but this really seemed like a good time to see if it would work on her uncle, "Seeing as my opinion isn't needed or valued... I'll take my leave."

"Ileana-"

"Really, uncle," she grumbled as she rose from the couch. "You've got the Count here... No need for my input."

And with that, she stalked out of the room, opening and shutting the door rather forcefully. Dramatic spats were not her style, but when she wanted to make a point, it had a tendency to work on her uncle. As she moved down the dimly lit hallway, she released a gasp when she came face to face with Hector, who had been waiting around a corner and poked his head out when he heard her coming.

"Sorry," he chuckled, stepping out with his hands up, "I didn't mean to frighten you. I... I just really put a lot into this job, and I wanted to wait around to see if there was any chance I got it."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, then let out a sigh, "I... I really don't think so. My uncle seems set on someone else, though I tried to put in a good word for you. You have wonderful credentials, Hector. I can keep trying, but I don't know if I can budge him on the issue."

"Don't bother, Miss," he murmured, running a hand through his blond hair, "I don't want to be pushed on him, you know? I appreciate you trying though."

"Not a problem," she said quickly, eying his attractive features in the shadows, "I really am sorry."

"That's the way it goes sometimes, I'm afraid."

"Indeed it does."

The Count's intrusion to the conversation made them both jump. She hadn't even heard the door open behind her, and she wondered just how long he had been standing there.

"Seeing as you are no longer under consideration," the Count started, stepping into the candlelight beside Ileana, "I only think it appropriate you vacate the castle. Best of luck elsewhere."

"Yes sir," Hector muttered, shooting the man a look before his blue eyes drifted to Ileana. "Look, my carriage to Budapest won't arrive for another four days... So I'll be in the village in the meantime. Why don't you come round... We'll have a spot of tea, or something. Always nice to meet a lovely English lady like yourself."

Ileana's cheeks flamed at the request, and she grinned, "Sure."

"You will need to ask your uncle before accepting a stranger's invitation, Ileana," the Count interjected suddenly, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her away. "I'll send a messenger down with her reply. Good day."

Ileana tried to object, but she soon found herself being forcefully led back down the hallway, and when she looked back over her shoulder, Hector had disappeared.

"Let go of me!" she demanded, struggling for a moment to slip free from his grasp. Pushing some hair out of her face, she turned to glare at him, her hands landing on her hips, "Who do you think you are? You have no right to send away someone like that... He's a guest-"

"In my castle, you must not forget," the Count stated, sounding somewhat bored with her, "and you must remember that you are the same. I'm only looking out for you. It is completely indecent for a woman your age to meet up with a stranger in the village... Your uncle would have a fit."

"You think you know so much about him, don't you?" she cracked in low tones, "You think you know my uncle... Well, you don't. You don't know what he wants, and you certainly can't fathom what he needs!"

"I know what I need, and what I want," he replied dangerously. "I need and want this experiment to work... It must be successful, and I won't have some fluffy romance between you and a boy ruin it."

She was taken back for a moment, then quickly regained her composure, "Don't be ridiculous. I haven't the slightest-"

"Your cheeks are still flushed," he commented, reaching up and poking one with his finger. The woman recoiled momentarily and pushed his hand away, "That's because I'm cross with you! Look, just because you are supporting us with this, doesn't mean you own us. We signed no contract and we can leave at any point!"

"Think what you want, Ileana," he mused, taking a step back with an eyebrow raised. "Think what you want."


	5. Anger and Control

This Count was an exceptionally strange character. He visited at all hours of the day and night, though whenever he came during the day, it seemed perfectly clear sunshine would vanish behind an array of heavy clouds, and a storm would soon follow. Perhaps Ileana was simply being stupid when she thought he dragged the foul weather with him, but she couldn't help but notice that it happened a lot. He was the type of man that wasn't afraid to hold her gaze whenever she felt like challenging him, and it was frustrating to note that she was usually the one to look away first. He constantly thought he knew what was best for Victor and spoiled the man to no end with all the fancy new laboratory equipment that he had purchased recently. He was a man that was well read, but hesitant to allow either Ileana or Victor to hear about his culture or the myths of Transylvania. He had forbidden them to enter one of the rooms on the second floor. Apparently it was his private room, should he ever wish to spend the night with the pair, though Ileana had never seen him use it. She had tried opening it a few times, but the keys were tucked away somewhere in the castle, and he wouldn't even hint at the location. Lastly, he always came up with excuses as to why the Frankenstein duo didn't need to go into the village. A servant would fetch their food and supplies, and he somehow always showed up whenever Ileana found herself walking out toward the bridge that crossed the river barrier between worlds. He'd usher her back inside, insisting that a storm was brewing, and sure enough one would always start when he predicted it.

To be honest, his cool, calm and collected demeanor was really starting to get under her skin. Sure, he was argumentative, but there was this smugness about him whenever they bickered, as though he knew he was right, and it drove her mad. Victor was oblivious to it, and had his hands full recently with getting Igor up to speed with the experiment. That twisted little creature was a completely different story. He was rather quiet, only speaking when spoken to, and tended to shuffle about from place to place. There was intelligence there, no doubt about it, but she wasn't particularly sure why he beat out other candidates... Especially handsome candidates named Hector. But Igor was... there. Just there. He spoke in Romanian to the Count whenever the man was present, and she pondered whether the Count had spoken so highly of him simply because he wanted an ally against the two Britons.

It was a Saturday. Not a day off, but not a particularly hard work day. The trio of scientists had spent most of the morning constructing graphs and diagrams in proportion of what their new 'creature' would look like once they built him. Victor was giddy, Ileana was focused, and Igor was inquisitive, fixated on how they would use electricity to bring someone to life. He was not a God fearing man, but it seemed he worried about the prospects of creating life. When afternoon came, they were mentally exhausted. Too much time was spent on calculations, and Ileana was slowly getting irritated with her uncle's nit-picking at her drawing. She wasn't an artist, so she didn't understand how he expected this to be perfect. It was Igor, mercifully, who had suggested they take a break from working, and they decided to simply call it a day. They would pick up again on Monday, as Sunday was a day of rest, and that suited Ileana just fine. As Victor and Igor retired for some relaxation, Ileana noted that for once the Count wasn't hovering over their shoulders. The sun was shining beautifully on the snowy terrace below, and as she glanced out the window toward the quaint - albeit dingy - village, she couldn't help but feel a call toward it. The way it looked with the puffs of grey smoke coming from chimneys, she almost imaged it to be the sort of image that would be put in paintings and be sold for a great deal of money. Oh, if only she could paint.

Determined to finally explore this little haven, Ileana quickly bundled herself up in a thick black cloak and a blue scarf wrapped around her lengthy wavy hair. Her hands slipped into a pair of green woolen mittens, and she was sure to cover her feet with some thick riding boots to keep out the chill. The dress beneath it was a plain cream coloured creation that had been sent over from England a while back from her grandmother, though she rarely ever wore it.

Casting a glance over her shoulder as she walked swiftly through the courtyard, she half expected the Count to pop out of nowhere and tell her to go back inside. However, once she was through the rusted metal gates, her feet found a familiar rhythm as they marched her toward the rickety looking bridge that would lead her across the narrower part of the river to the village. Her heart started to beat faster as her pace quickened, and the young woman actually released a gasp as she stepped onto the bridge for the first time. There was no shout for her, no one grabbing at her arm, nothing. She could actually leave the confines of the castle, and no one would care! Well, no one knew she was doing it, and that was the bliss of it all. Grasping hold of the railing on either side, Ileana rushed across the bridge, her insides doing a strange little dance whenever it swayed from side to side. Despite its appearance, the thing was stable enough to hold her as she crossed. Once she was over, she picked up her cloak and dress, then made a run for the village, knowing that if anyone would want to stop her now, they would have to catch her.

The cobblestone was actually inviting as Ileana entered the village limits, and she couldn't help but notice how alive it all looked. During the stormy days, when she could see the streets from her tower, she never saw a soul. It was as though the villagers feared the darkness. But now, she was pleased to say that she saw traders and people moving between shops. There were women sitting on the edge of a well in the town square, swapping stories no doubt as they gabbed away. Hardly anyone paid Ileana much attention, and she wouldn't have it any other way. Now she would wander about as she pleased, stopping here and there to peer in the musty windows of shops, smiling at the products inside. None of these were commercial... It was so nice to see handcrafted souvenirs. She knew where she was going to buy Victor's presents from now on... the handicrafts were simply darling. There was a sudden tap on her shoulder, and she whipped around, her eyes ducking down to the hunched over woman in front of her. She had a basket in her hands, and in the basket there were countless necklaces of all shapes and sizes. Ileana smiled brightly, though she had no idea what the woman was saying.

"I... I don't speak Romanian," she insisted as the woman prattled on about something, pointing from the necklaces to Ileana's neck several times. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying!"

"I don't think she'll understand that you don't understand if you speak to her in English."

Ileana's cheeks flamed momentarily as she turned to find the source of the newcomer, and she was pleasantly surprised when she spotted a rather attractive young man standing before her. He was robed in a dark purple cloak with gold trimmings, indicating an upper-class background, and she spotted a simple riding outfit beneath it. His hair was a chestnut brown, and he had a rather boxy chin with a long face. His eyes were hazel. Over all, she deemed him good looking.

"I... I ..." Ileana stammered, unsure really what she was supposed to say to that. The man stepped forward and grinned at the hunched woman, who had stooped her head lower into something that resembled a bow. He asked her something in a tongue foreign to her own, and the woman responded while Ileana watched curiously.

"She says pretty young ladies should have pretty jewelry," the man explained after another moment or so of chatter. "I suppose she wants your business."

"You speak excellent English," Ileana commented absently, ignoring the saleswoman for a moment. "I don't mean to be rude, but how...?"

"I have an English tutor," he explained with a smirk. "With you English taking over the world, along with those American goods that are shipped here occasionally, we nobles are merely changing with the time."

Ah, a nobleman. That would explain the elegant attire. The rest of the villagers, from what she had seen, were wearing as many articles of clothing that were humanly possible to keep out the cold. This fellow was not, which indicated (aside from the fine quality of the cloak and whatnot) that he had a particularly warm place to go back to.

"Clever," she replied, wishing she had bothered to learn Romanian at some point during her life, "I... I actually don't have any money on me." She faced the woman, "Can you please tell her I'm sorry, but I can't buy anything. I only came to the village to look around."

He frowned for a moment, and then cleared his throat, "You're from the castle. From Dracula's old castle."

Ileana paused, then looked up at him, "Well... We're living there now, yes."

"Why don't I buy something for you?" he suggested, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few pieces of silver, "It really isn't expensive... It can be a gift to welcome you to Transylvania."

"Oh, oh, I couldn't let you," Ileana stated firmly, sighing when she watched the young man hand the money over to the woman, who eagerly stuffed it into a pocket of her cloak. He motioned to the basket, willing her to pick one out. Well, there was no sense in being rude, seeing as he had already paid for it. She pulled off one of her mittens with her mouth, then reached forward with a pale hand and picked up a necklace with a sole emerald hanging from the black string. It was elegant, and she wondered whether or not it was real. Probably not, but you could never tell in these places. Grasping her mitten once again, she smiled at the woman, who shuffled off once the sale was made, leaving her standing alone with the man. Her eyes shifted up toward him, and he grinned, "Prince Velkan Valerious... You can call me Velkan, if you would like."

"Ileana Frankenstein," she returned, enjoying the thought of having a friend in such high places while she stayed in Transylvania. "I don't mean to pry, but why did you say we were in the Count's old castle? Doesn't he still live here? He's always over-"

"Ileana!"

The young girl flinched rather violently as a male voice barked out of her name, but this time it was not the usual suspect who stopped her from entering the village. No, much to her shock, Victor was striding along the path toward her, furious.

"That's my uncle," she said quietly, stepping away from her new companion. "I'm not supposed to be out-"

"I turn my back for no less than a minute and you are disobeying what you've been told to do!" Victor fumed, grasping her arm firmly and hauling her away from Velkan in a hurry, too quick for her to even bid farewell to the Romanian prince.

"You're embarrassing me!" Ileana hissed as they exited the village square, perfectly aware that they had been watched the entire time by the locals. Victor, she noted, did not make eye contact with any of them, and seemed to prefer to get out of there as quickly as he possibly could. The poor man must have been freezing, as he was still in his white lab coat - rather than a cloak - and had a small scarf wrapped around his neck. The sky had clouded over at this point (had it clouded sooner? She hadn't been paying attention.) and the wind was picking up as they got closer to the castle.

"The Count specifically warned you about that village," Victor snapped as he hauled her across the bridge, finally no longer muttering under his breath about her lack of judgment, among other things, "and you've disobeyed him! You should start behaving with him, Ileana. He's been very generous, and all he did was ask you to stay away from those savage villagers... For good reason too, I would assume! He knows these people, Ileana, and you should trust his judgment!"

"Uncle-"

"And you didn't even ask me if you were allowed to go!" he continued loudly, now stomping her up toward the courtyard, "You simply put down our drawings from this morning and left! It was the Count who noticed you were missing."

"I've only been gone an hour, maybe less-"

"That doesn't matter, Ileana!" he snapped, stopping finally in the empty courtyard to face her, "It doesn't matter how long you were gone for! You are still being disobedient, and you are ruining the trust I have in you. You are still a young woman, and it is _highly _inappropriate for you to be out there! What if that man had taken you off and ... violated you, or something?"

"He was a Romanian prince, I'll have you know," Ileana argued back, guilt starting to seep over as she sensed the worry in his tone. "He wasn't doing anything... Just welcomed me to the village-"

"Well you are not a part of his village," Victor concluded, stuffing his red hands into the deep pockets of his labcoat and stalking back up toward the castle entrance. "I expect you to apologize to the Count, and then... then you are confined to your room for the rest of the day!"

Ileana blinked; he was punishing her? Victor never punished her! She started to protest, but he told her he would hear none of it, and she was to go straight to the Count to apologize, then to her room. She stood in the main hallway for a moment, stunned at the turn of events. Victor rarely raised his voice. He never punished her by banishment, and had a rather lax policy on what was acceptable around the house. Why had that changed all of a sudden?

The walk down to the laboratory, where the Count was apparently admiring their work from that morning, was a painfully slow one. She didn't want to apologize to him... He was the one that had ratted her nonexistence to her uncle, and he was the reason she was now confined to her room for the rest of the day. It was unfair; all she wanted to do was get out of the castle... They had been in there for almost two weeks straight. Surely they would all go mad if they were not permitted any other social contact.

At the sound of the door to the lab opening, she looked up and saw that the Count was just exiting, a rather pleased look on his face. Rolling her eyes, she figured that it was now or never, and picked up the pace, "Count?"

"Ah, so you've returned," he mused, shutting the door to the lab's entrance behind him. He faced her head on, an eyebrow raised, "I'm sure you have something to tell me. Go ahead... I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize for ignoring your request to stay away from the village," Ileana droned, glancing down at her hands and picking at her nails. "I should have taken your word for it..."

"They are peasants, Ileana," the Count commented, his tone softening. "I see no reason why such a lovely young lady would even want to associate herself with them."

"I didn't meet a peasant," Ileana told him, the necklace clutched in her left hand. "I met a prince, actually."

The look on his face startled her, if she was being perfectly honest. It was the way his expression changed from pleasant to enraged to something in between in a matter of seconds that really got to her, and she countered his step toward her with a hasty step back, gripping her necklace tightly.

"What prince?"

"A man named Velkan," she said quickly, the tone of his voice too dark for her liking. "He... There was a woman asking me to buy something, and I had no idea what she was saying, and he came out of nowhere to help me... He even bought me a necklace!"

The Count glanced down at her hand when she held up her new necklace and before she could say anything he snatched it away, snapping, "The peasants like to sell cursed jewelry to foreigners! You shouldn't trust them, Ileana, especially when they hail from the Valerious line."

"But-"

"You must promise me that you will never see him again," he hissed, taking another step forward. "He and his father hate me... They loathe every fibre of my being, and they will fill your head with nonsense and lies... You cannot see him again. If I must, I will sit at the gate night and day to ensure you stay inside. Do I make myself clear?"

She hadn't noticed before, but he had backed her up so far that she was about to walk into a coat of armor near the entrance. Her breathing was heavy as he bore down on her, and then intensity of his voice sent a shiver of fear through her body. Her skin prickled and she could feel her heart pounding beneath her chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I... I didn't know. I just wanted to get out of the castle."

"Then go for a walk around the grounds, but stay out of the village," he ordered sharply. "And you will forget you met Velkan Valerious... He is no good. His family is a line of cowards and politicians who stop at nothing to get what they want, no matter who they hurt in the process. He's a charmer with the women, and I hope you saw through that."

"I wasn't talking to him long enough-"

"Did you tell him about me?" he asked suddenly. Her eyes darted back down toward her hands as she searched for the wording, but there was suddenly a firm hand under her chin, forcing her to look up, "I said you came here sometimes, but nothing else, I promise."

He emitted something of a growl, then released her. Without a word of farewell, he stalked off toward the door to the courtyard, and as he went, she could hear the distinct sound of something that sounded like glass being crushed. Her brown eyes shot down to his hand, and she noticed that he was cracking the precious stone on her necklace. Maybe it wasn't real after all... No human can crush an emerald like it was nothing.

"Count?"

She wanted to fix this, although she couldn't figure out why. For some reason, she did not enjoy him being this angry with her. Sure, his annoyance was generally amusing when they bickered, but there was something different in his eyes... Something she couldn't put her finger on. However, before she could say another word, the door was slammed shut behind him, and he had literally vanished into the foggy air.

******************************************************

"A girl?"

"Maybe Anna's age," Velkan repeated to the room full of men, his eyes trained on his esteemed father. "He's keeping them there... Two of them. I tried to keep her talking as long as I could, but her uncle swept in and took her away. Clearly Dracula has warned them about us."

There was a murmur of agreement all around, and his father looked grave. It was unsettling to the Valerious family to know that Dracula was roaming about freely in a castle that was not distinctly his own. They knew he had a secret hiding place, a place where the monster was free to be himself. However, it was worrying to know that he was in such close proximity of the village. Should they attack the castle? Should they simply invade, remove the foreigners, and try to kill the infamous Vladislaus Dracula once and for all? All their previous attempts to kill the dreaded vampire had failed... They were playing their next attack close to the chest. Nothing was working, it seemed, and Velkan worried for his family's souls. They could not enter Heaven until Dracula was killed; that was the Holy deal.

"They must not know what he truly is," Valerious the Elder mused, rubbing a hand through his beard as he eyed Velkan. "Are they local?"

"English," Velkan replied, frowning when he spotted a shadow flicker past the window at the rear end of the drawing room. He passed it off as nothing though, "I'll try and visit them..."

"Not if Dracula is a common visitor in the castle," his father chided, shaking his head. "You know he will kill you on sight, Velkan. We cannot risk it."

"You have such a poor opinion of me, Valerious," a baritone voice rumbled from the now open window. Velkan was the first to draw arms, his gun pointed at the ominous vampire as he slithered in through the window. The men that were closest to him backed up hastily, tripping over themselves to get clear of him, but the Valerious men were the first to the front, weapons drawn. He had not entered this house in centuries... Why now? Why was he so calm? Their last confrontation in the forest had been less than serene.

"I'm not here to fight you, Valerious," Dracula mused, stepping in with his hands behind his back, his lengthy black cloak straightening once he was completely in the room. "I merely want to tell your _boy_ to stay away from my people. They are there because I have an interest in science... Nothing blasphemous or dangerous-"

"You'll kill them when you don't need them," his father snapped, his finger on the trigger of his gun, despite the fact they all knew it would no longer do them any good, "and I won't let you slaughter anyone else."

"They are there because they want to be there," the vampire insisted. "I did not force them, nor do they want to leave."

"I somehow don't think they can," Velkan blurted, feeling the need to add the conversation. "They're scared of the village-"

"With good reason," Dracula chuckled, his eyes wandering aimlessly through the small group of men. "I've told them you're all savages... armed with pitchforks and ready to strike at the best opportunity. Don't come near them... or I'll send my brides to pick more than our usual share come the end of the month."

The men were restless behind him, knowing full well that Dracula and his brides took maybe one person every two months. If they started to take more... Well, he wasn't sure if his people could take an added terror.

"And don't give her gifts," the vampire hissed, chucking the necklace he had purchased for the young woman at Velkan. The man caught it, noting that the emerald gemstone had been cracked into two pieces, only half stuck to the black chain. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, the creature vanished from their sight, an eerie silence settling over the room.

He had to be stopped...

******************************************************

Dracula didn't like this. He didn't like the fact that he had to go fix the mess that the girl made by talking to Velkan Valerious. Hopefully his threat of attacking more people would hold, but he couldn't be sure of that. There had to be some way to keep those mongrels away from the castle. Perhaps a wolf... A werewolf generally kept the villagers busy until they had killed it, and by then Dracula would have a replacement ready to be launched into action at the fall of its predecessor.

He soared over the village, the cold air urging his muscles to fly faster as wings beat soundlessly from his back. He loved to fly. It was so gratifying... To hover above God's creation was exhilarating. But he could not let his pleasure take over for too long; he had to sort out the Frankenstein family. Victor, from what he last saw, was moping around the castle for punishing his niece, and the girl was locked up in her room, probably upset with everyone. Honestly. He didn't think there would be so much drama when he brought a girl onto this assignment, and yet here they were...sorting out drama. Women were just so fickle sometimes. He ought to know... The man was married to three of them, and trying to keep them from bickering or whining for his attention was enough to drive any mortal mad. But he cared for all of them. He cared for their happiness. He tried to hurt when they hurt, though he found it terribly difficult sometimes. All he wanted to do was see them smile. That meant he wouldn't have to deal with tears, you see?

The reason he had sought out Ileana and Victor was because of his brides. The darlings wanted children, as did he, and their offspring were currently born dead. Every attempt to bring them to life, so far, had failed. With the villagers constantly trying to kill him, he was growing desperate and frustrated. Then came Victor. The vampire had heard of the intelligent hermit through gossip over the summer - he had been pushing his life creation theory onto almost every intellectual in the country, and it was only a matter of time before the news reached Dracula. The man was his saviour; should the experiment work, his babies would soon come to life, and his kind could continue on living. Their numbers would grow, divide, and very soon, dominate.

However, the only way to keep Victor working properly was to keep him happy. And the way to keep him happy was to keep his niece happy. Once again, Dracula found himself trying to keep a damn woman smiling. He should have been a professional at it by now, but somehow Ileana Frankenstein had a way of wiggling herself under his skin. Not a lot... He had a high patience level for mortal women, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the bantering. It was refreshing to talk to a woman with intelligence, even if she was just a touch naïve about the ways of the world. However, he knew he would need a firm hand with her... Couldn't have her running off to Velkan again and ruin what Dracula had worked so hard and long to establish. She'd take her uncle and run away, and then his brides would be miserable. And in turn, Dracula would be miserable.

Well, more miserable than he was now, anyway.

As he descended through the fog into the courtyard of the castle, he felt something clank against his side through the breast pocket of his cloak. He had found another necklace for Ileana once he left the Valerious manor, one that was nicer, more expensive looking, and would be an apology gift from him. A bit of flattery and groveling seemed to work on every woman, no matter what their status was, so Dracula was quite sure he would worm his way back into her semi-good books with the token.

Stalking into the house, he moved in silence, not wanting to run into Victor and explain why he was back. The man was starting to idolize Dracula just a touch; he was overly grateful, and to be honest, it made the vampire feel... uncomfortable. Soon, he hoped, the sense of awe and wonder would wear down, and Victor could simply focus on his work. He moved with the speed only a vampire could possess, and in several quick seconds he was ascending up the tower toward Ileana's room, pausing at her door to listen to what she was doing. There was a sniffle every so often, then a turning of a page... Reading, no doubt. The girl had enough books. Perhaps he should have fetched her a book, rather than the necklace. Hmm.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now, anyway. He raised a fist to the door and knocked sharply. The pages stopped turning. Feet touched the ground. He could hear her heartbeat pick up, "Yes?"

"May I come in, Ileana?"

There was a short pause, then a sigh, "Yes, Count. Come in."

He turned the knob and stepped inside fluidly, shutting the door behind him. She was rising from her double bed, a book resting in her hands. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she was dressed in a plain cream dress. It wasn't flattering or hideous... She would look nicer in darker colours though. The material was light and flowy as she stepped toward him, "I want to apologize again-"

"Don't," he insisted, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. "I should apologize for my behaviour earlier. It was rude of me to be so ... forward with you."

She stared at him for a moment, clearly taken back, then folded her arms across her chest, "Oh."

"You have to understand, Ileana, I do not get along with the Valerious family," he started, telling her the truth, though not necessarily the complete truth, "and I don't want you to get the wrong impression from them... I worry for your safety when you go into the village. Wait for me. I'll take you one day... When I know it's safe."

There. Be polite. Not overly familiar, but familiar enough to make her feel comfortable. Dracula knew women by now. He knew what would make them appreciate his concern, and what would likely insult them. She swallowed thickly, "I suppose that's... reasonable."

"Good," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the necklace he had gotten for her. "I've picked you up something to replace the one you lost. One that isn't cursed, I promise you."

She eyed the necklace warily and inched away when he stepped toward her. Hmm. He merely changed his stride to something larger to catch her quickly. The vampire held out the necklace for her to examine. It was plain, as the last had been, and he had assumed Ileana was one for plain jewelry, if she wore any at all. The chain was gold this time and a ruby in the shape of a diamond hung off the end of it. It seemed more regal, to be sure.

"Thank you," she murmured, a hand reaching up cautiously to touch it. "It's... lovely. Count," her dreamy tone was gone quickly, "you really didn't need to."

"I insist," he announced, stepping around her to place to necklace on her neck. "Do you mind?"

He could hear her heart dancing beneath her breast, no doubt uncomfortable at the presence of man so intimate and close. Had she ever been with a man, he pondered, watching as she pulled her brown hair to one side awkwardly, exposing her neck to him. People so rarely did this for him now; it was almost a delight to watch her skin come into the light. He could smell her blood. It was a tease. This was a tease. His eyes shut momentarily, and he simply enjoyed the scent. It was only momentarily though; he soon unclasped the necklace and slid it around her neck, his cold finger tips brushing over her skin as he went. Her heart beat faster. Her cheeks flamed.

Well, well, well. A smug look was in his blue eyes; perhaps he could control her by wooing her. Steal her affections from the other hungry men out there. He could do it. There were three eager women back in his palace that could attest his abilities to charm a lady until she only desired him.

"There," he murmured, taking a respectful step back and returning to his prior stance in front of her, "I think this one is nicer than the last. You are suited for rubies, Ileana."

"Thank you," she cracked, a hand running down the chain of the necklace as she gazed toward it. "Really, I didn't mean to upset you as much as I did."

"Like I said earlier, it isn't a problem," Dracula dictated smoothly, holding her gaze when she looked up at him. "I won't hold it against you."

She nodded her head contently, and she soon looked back down at the necklace now hanging around her neck.

Dracula grinned; he had discovered a successful method of control.

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I want to thank all the people that have taken the time to review this! Honestly, it means so much to me. I'll thank individuals later on, probably at the end of the series. I'm glad you're all enjoying it!


	6. Sick

It wasn't as if Ileana didn't enjoy the Count's company. It would be a downright lie to say that he continued to irk her as much as he had when they were first introduced. There was just something... different about him now. Perhaps it was going too far to say that he had softened, but she had gotten used to his snippy comments and the occasional rolling of the eyes that happened when Victor got overly excited about something. Which happened a lot. It seemed that the glamour in working in a ritzy castle for a man who was willing to simply pay for everything still hadn't worn off yet. Science was exciting to him, and it was as simple as that. Ileana, on the other hand, was a student of science. She found some of it fascinating, while there was a good deal of it that she only remembered while her tutor taught it to her several years ago, and since then it has been forgotten. Igor was like her. He had a keen eye for details, though he rarely voiced his opinion when the Count was around. The man could often be seen huddled over a textbook of some variety, then impressing Victor the next day with his newly gained knowledge.

The Count, on the other hand, did not have much of a taste for science. Her uncle would try to engage him in conversation whenever he could, but he seemed to merely agree with whatever the Englishman said rather than produce new ideas. But when Ileana asked him about anything to do with history or religion, the man was rather vocal. He was a nationalist at heart, one that did not believe in worshipping God, though he acknowledged that both He and the Devil existed. The man had complex ideals, ones that Ileana didn't quite understand, but she could guess that she was the same way. Victor was a man of science... Ileana, being his niece, was also a follower of science, but she could never quite figure out how to separate that from her belief in God. Was she supposed to believe that all was created in seven days, or should she search for some other reason? Something based in science and ground out from a textbook? The Count was opinionated on the subject, but she could never quite come up with an idea herself.

They had been in the castle for almost three months. The design of the experiment was moving ahead smoothly, and the entire structure of the person they would be creating from scratch had been finalized. He was to be a very burly man; nearly seven feet in stature, and wider than Victor and the Count at the shoulders. It was necessary to make him so large, as his skeletal structure and internal organs were all going to be made from wires, gadgets and other pieces of metal that would conduct electricity, get his brain working, and in essence keep him alive. When the drawings were completed - it was only two weeks ago that they had managed such a task - all three of the scientists buried themselves deep within texts of the human anatomy and the workings of modern electricity. The frequent storms that rocked the village hidden in the mountain valley range would be the spark of life that Victor's creation needed, and Dracula assured everyone that by the time the creature was created, the storms would be bigger and better than ever. How he knew this was beyond her comprehension, but lately Ileana had stopped questioning the Count's oddities.

It had only occurred to them recently that they would need to find body parts to make up the Creation's appendages. Eyes. Ears. Teeth. Skin. Fingernails. All of them had to be found, and Ileana was mortified when the Count suggested grave robbery to find what they needed. There was a fairly large cemetery in the village near the outskirts, one that apparently traveled back into the forest. The tombs in there were the oldest, from a time when the people were not afraid of what the woodlands held.

At first, Ileana objected to the idea, but there was no other way around it. Something bothered her about digging up the bodies of dead people... It wasn't right. Once they had died, they were supposed to stay in the ground. But once again, this was all in the name of science. The Count promised that once they had taken what they needed, the bodies were to be respectfully buried once more, and no one would notice the difference. While she agreed to the process, she refused to be a part of it. Ileana promised that she would help manipulate the body parts when they were brought back to the castle, but she refused to go out in the dead of night and dig them up. Firstly, the night terrified her here. There were horrible sounds from every direction once the sun set, and the only way to drown them out was by getting engrossed in reading, having a conversation with her uncle or the Count, or working until she was so tired that she knew she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

It was that night that Victor and Igor had crept out of the castle at nearly midnight, bags and shovels intact for a night of robbing graves. They had saws with him, and Ileana figured that they were going to take the bodies apart on site, which would have simply been too gruesome for her to handle. For now, she was tidying up the lab, ensuring that there would be ample table room to spread out the body parts once Victor and Igor brought them back. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, though she could feel it already coming loose only moments after she retied it. It had been getting longer and longer over the three months that they had been in Transylvania, and there was really no hope in her seeing someone to cut it for her. The maid used to do it back home... Now she figured that she would probably have to do it herself. She had been wearing a work dress, seeing as they had been working on cleaning the lab that afternoon, and she hadn't changed into her night clothes... What was the point? She would be working and getting disgusting... stuff on her soon, so may as well stay. The dress was a dull brown colour, lighter than her hair, and she had a creamy coloured apron wrapped around her waist, though it had progressively turned a gray as the day wore on. Her feet were bare, but only because the laboratory had a strange amount of warmth to it... There were countless little fireplaces everywhere, with one large central one near the windows.

"They should be home soon."

Ileana inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion of the Count's voice, and she whipped around, her eyes searching the dimly lit room until they landed on the Count's figure. He was standing up on one of the iron girders that crossed the rather tall tower-like room. She wasn't quite sure why there were these bridge ... things hanging around everywhere, but they were there. Apparently for good use, but who knows, really.

"Count," she breathed, running a hand over her grubby dress. "How long have you been there? I thought I was all alone."

"Not long, I promise," he insisted, leaning over the side of the metal railing lazily, his hands hanging limply in front of him. "You seemed so intent on your work... I didn't really have the heart to disrupt you."

"It would have been a justified distraction," she mused with good-nature, now planting her hands on her hips as she looked around the lab. "I suppose there is enough space for ... whatever my Uncle and Igor bring back. What do you think?"

The shadows under his eyes shifted as he studied the large room in silence, and for a few moments she merely watched him, taking in his overall demeanor silently. He had gotten so... relaxed with her. To be honest, it was nice to finally have a work environment that wasn't riddled with the hostility that was there at the beginning. It was strange to think that in three rather long months the dynamic between the two had changed, but she wasn't too sure who to blame for that. The Count had kept his mouth shut more often, that was for sure, but Ileana had stopped giving him a hard time... If she thought about it logically, she assumed that she was upset with him so much because he had taken the spotlight for Victor's attention. For the longest time, she was her uncle's one and only, and with someone suddenly in the picture, a someone who Victor idolized from the first encounter it seemed, Ileana must have felt waves of jealousy, or something. Bah. But how was she to know? She wasn't one to study the mind and its functions... That was for those head-doctors. Ileana was all about the science, but there were still things that remained a mystery to her.

"I think it looks very nice, you have done well, Ileana," the Count complimented gently, his large hands sliding upward suddenly and gripping the railing of the balcony. She cocked her head to the side, puzzled, then released a shrill gasp as he used that as a base to propel himself over the side of the little girder, landing gracefully on the stone floor nearby.

"Calm down, my dear," he chuckled as she stumbled forward to check if he had broken anything. "I go hunting with my men all the time... We jump from greater distances when we're in hot pursuit of an... animal."

"But... But that seemed so unnecessary," Ileana stammered as she closed in on him, her eyes running down to his legs and ankles to see if something had been damaged and he was merely good at hiding it. "I mean... You... You could have taken the stairs!"

"This was faster-"

"And more dangerous, to be sure-"

"Ileana," he hissed delicately, as though scolding an overly protective wife. "I'm fine. Don't worry about such trivial things."

"Nonsense," Ileana asserted, grasping his arm and leading him over to a nearby stool. "Sit down and just let me have a look."

"I wasn't aware you were a medical student too, Ileana," he commented briskly as he sat down with a huff. "I can assure you-"

"You men are always so ... hesitant to admit you're feeling pain," she snapped, kneeling down in front of him and rubbing her hands down the front of his legs, trying to feel so a fracture in the bone, or a bump, or... something that would have indicated the jump! Instead, she felt sturdy shin bones beneath her hands, and she paused when she felt the top of his boots, knowing that even if she ventured further down, she wouldn't be able to feel anything without taking them off.

"I promise it isn't an ego thing," the Count muttered, leaning his arms back on the table behind him. "And, after all, it's not like I would purposefully tell you not to touch me."

Ileana glanced up quickly, disbelief in her eyes, "W-What?"

"What?" the Count mimicked coolly, his eyebrows raised. "Something wrong, Ileana? I didn't hurt anything, did I?"

She blinked twice, her mind trying to process exactly what he meant about her touching him. The young woman slumped down slightly, a frown on her face, "N-No... Not that I can feel."

"I told you."

"Ileana! What... What are you doing?!"

Her uncle's shocked voice suddenly jarred her from her thoughts, and her head whipped toward the door, eyes widening when she spotted Victor standing like a statue in the doorway. It was only at that moment that she realized her positioning was... suggestive, to say the least. Ileana on her knees in front of a seated Count, who looked a little too relaxed in his current position.

"Oh, uncle, I... It's... We were just..." Ileana stammered, pushing herself to her feet and taking a good five steps away from the Count while the man straightened up on the metal stool. "I thought the Count had hurt his ankle, and I wanted to examine it myself. That's all."

The Count released something of a snort, then went to join Igor at a nearby table, his eyes dancing as they traveled over the body parts that the man was pulling out of the bag. Her uncle made his way over to her and she swallowed thickly, "Uncle, that's all I was doing, I promise."

"I trust you," Victor murmured softly, then flung his own bag up on the table. His load was much smaller than Igor's, and Ileana watched from behind his shoulder as he tenderly started to remove the contents. An arm. A foot. Two eyes of different colours. As she watched both grave-robbers show off their spoils, she couldn't help but feel sick. Placing a hand on her stomach, the smell soon getting inside her brain, she could feel her stomach churning.

"Ileana?" the Count called hesitantly, "Perhaps you should stand by the window?"

Victor turned around, a skeptical eye running over her paled face, and he let out a sigh, "Really, Ileana, you have to get used to things like this as a scientist... They deal with the human anatomy all the time. Come closer and have a real look, child."

Ileana gagged, the stench becoming too much for her, and she turned on her heel, dashing out of the room before vomiting noisily in the hallway.


	7. Sadistic

March turned into April, and the snows around the castle borders melted. Despite the fact that they were in a valley between the mountains, Ileana noted that spring came here as much as it did everywhere else. Naturally, the chill didn't leave the air, and even as May rolled in, one still needed a cloak or jacket of some sort of they wanted to go outside. As far as the invention was going, it was coming along. With the arrival of the body parts, it was established that Ileana did not have the stomach to deal with it all at once, and she would be given bits and pieces to study, while working on more detailed sketchings and designs for the creation. It was a bit of a let down, because that meant she was spending more and more time outside of the lab, but her stomach simply couldn't take all that dead flesh at the same time. Her uncle had lost his patience with her when it came to the body parts, Igor had no opinion on the matter, though she found the Count very supportive of her decision to stay outside. In fact, the Count was behind her on a lot of decisions she would make lately, and although she found herself flattered by the sudden ally, she couldn't help but remain a tad suspicious.

His behaviour toward her had grown less formal over the passing months, and as winter turned into spring, he became less of an authoritative figure around the castle and more of a companion. The man brought her books back from his travels, silks from the market, and precious stones whenever traders made their way into the village. It seemed that he enjoyed doting on her, and because of that, the woman had not gone back to the village for some time. Because of her obedience, he gave her and her uncle permission to explore the forest surrounding the castle, past the river, if they wished to do so. Ileana took that as a chance to get out of the castle and off the limiting grounds. She took long walks when the sun was out, which was rare in this region it seemed, though she was always back inside before nightfall. Strange things happened at night. Things she couldn't quite put her finger on, but things that were dangerous and frightening. For that reason alone Ileana sometimes refused to leave her bed; the howls and cries from the surrounding forest were enough to keep most people indoors.

It was one of those days that Ileana wanted to take advantage of. Igor and her uncle had done another grave run last night - apparently there wasn't enough skin to cover the mechanical legs that they had fashioned in the past months - which meant Ileana basically had free time. The Count stated he would be in later that afternoon to watch the progress that the men were making, while Ileana was free to do as she pleased. Taking that, she opted to go for a walk around the river's edge, though on the opposite side of the bridge. It was a good hour's walk to make a round trip, and that was if she was walking fast, so by the time she did a full circle of the "moat", the Count would be home, and she would have someone to talk to before dinner.

Clad in a green dress, one that had a gold belt fitted around the waist and tight cuffs around the wrists, Ileana set out across the bridge casually, wrapping a thick shawl around her slim shoulders to keep out the chill in the air. There was no breeze that afternoon, though the sun would occasionally poke its head out between the clouds, which meant there had to be wind somewhere up there. Mercifully not around her... Small mercies to keep her warm were always helpful. Her brown hair had grown quite long since she came to the Count's castle, and it was nearly down to her hips now. It was getting quite irritating, really, and she couldn't wait for the Count to bring in the barber he had promised her some time ago to cut it. Naturally, the woman was more than capable of doing it herself, but she felt like a barber could do a better job. Besides, how often did one have the chance for a professional to cut one's hair? No often! It was best to take advantage of such things. Small brown shoes cupped her feet, and as she stepped onto the hard earth that was no longer considered the castle's property, she couldn't help but feel like something was afoot. The forest was very quiet. There were no birds, only the sound of the river's current moving beneath the bridge a good distance away.

Frowning, she stared at the silent trees for a moment or so, then rewrapped her shawl around her shoulders before carrying on. Her feet took the usual path, one that she had walked many times before since the snow melted some time ago. The grass was a pleasant change from the white barren surroundings that she had gotten used to, but what made her even happier was the occasional flower that could be seen struggling for survival against the cool temperatures. As she walked, Ileana darted in and out of the tree line, stopping here and there to study a plant that looked interesting or new to her. The Count had purchased her a book some time ago about natural herbs and remedies and encouraged her to study it. Since then, her eye had a tendency to go toward wild plants and her mind would try to recall what its uses were. Alas, the scientific student could never be taken out of her.

She couldn't have been more than thirty minutes into her walk when everything went silent. The river even seemed to cease movement below her, and the woman let out a terrified gasp when she heard a growl behind her. Turning around sharply, she noted that she had earned the interest of a lone wolf. It was graying around the snout, which was a contrast to the black fur that covered the rest of its body. Swallowing thickly, Ileana glanced side to side, wondering how on Earth she was going to get out of this. If she ran, the beast was sure to chase her and quickly catch her. If she simply stood there, she left it up to it to decide her fate. It took a step toward her suddenly, causing her to take one back toward the edge of the cliff. If she went too far, she'd tumble into the river. Ever mindful of that frightening reality, Ileana looked over her shoulder for the shortest of moments to see where she was.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out in the air, and the wolf went scampering back into the forest, leaving her alone once again. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, and the fear of the animal soon changed to the fear of whoever owned the gun. To be honest, humans were just a little more frightening. There was a rustle in the bushes nearby, and then some shouts, and Ileana turned on her heel, ready to run back to the castle as quickly as her legs could carry her.

"Wait!"

She paused, the sound of that voice oddly familiar, and she turned back to see Prince Velkan, who she had met in the village many months ago it seemed, pushing out through the trees, rifle in hand, "Ileana, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, I thought you were someone a little more frightening," she replied hesitantly, her mind reminding her about how the Count felt for Velkan Valerious. "What are you doing out here?"

"The same can be said for you," he chuckled, stepping out completely for her to get a good look at him. His hair was longer, shaggier now than it had been when they first met, and he had a bit of stubble growing around his strong chin. "We're out hunting wolves... I noticed you found one of your own, so I thought I ought to get rid of it for you."

"How very kind of you, sir," she mused, eying him up and down for a moment, "but why didn't you just shoot it?"

He paused and glanced back into the still woods, "I'm afraid that isn't the type of wolf we are after... No sense in killing it."

"Not many would say that," she commented, "I hear they are a nuisance."

"There are worse things in the forest than common wolves," Velkan muttered as someone called his name from the trees. They urged him to carry on, stating that the tracks led east, back toward the village. "I will walk Ileana home... Carry on, I'll find you!"

"Oh, that isn't necessary-"

"The forest isn't safe to walk alone in-"

"But you're going to walk it..."

She wasn't completely sure why she was so brazen with him, especially when the Count disliked him so, but she couldn't help it. He was close to her age, maybe a few years older, and it felt so nice to see him again. Ever chance she saw him, Velkan represented that little touch of freedom and change she felt that she lacked when she worked in the castle.

"Ah, but I know the forest," he mused, taking a step closer. "I grew up here."

"And I've been walking around for a bit... I think I know my way if I stick to the banks."

"Come along, Ileana Frankenstein," he laughed, nodding back toward the way she came in an effort to make her follow. "The woods are dangerous with all the wolves... They're hungry after our long winters."

That was all she needed to hear. In a moment she was at his side, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to see if they were being followed by another visitor. When she was quite sure that they weren't being tracked by anything, she took a moment to study her new companion. She wasn't completely sure why the Count hated him and his family. After all, he was such a decent, well-spoken and polite man. Perhaps it was over something stupid... They were both Romanian noblemen, so maybe it was a land dispute? Wouldn't be the first time people bickered over something as petty as that. He suddenly caught her staring at him, then grinned, "Am I really that interesting?"

A blush crept to her cheeks at the thought of being caught, and Ileana hastily looked away, "I... No. I was just thinking."

"Oh. So I'm not interesting?"

"I-I wouldn't know," she stammered, quickly returning her gaze to him in a worry that she had offended him somehow. However, the man looked far from upset with what could be a rude comment, and she carried on, "I was wondering why you and the Count don't get along, actually."

The pleased expression on his face fell for a moment, and she pondered whether or not she had touched on something that was too sensitive a topic. Nibbling on her lower lip, she geared up to apologize for even mentioning it, but he cut her off before she could get the words out of her mouth.

"We've never gotten along," he said simply with a shrug of his shoulders, his voice strained. "My family has hated him for a very, very, very long time."

"But why?"

"He... He insulted us," Velkan responded slowly, as though searching for the appropriate wording. "He believes that we betrayed him, but our family thinks that he has hurt us... The heart of the issue is, no one really remembers anymore. Well, my father does. We do. We know we have to ... get him away from our land."

"But why?"

She couldn't understand what had been so terrible. The Count seemed like such a decent fellow now that she had gotten to know him. This Velkan character, despite her comfort with him, she had only met once before, and although grateful for his friendship, she wasn't particularly sure how she felt about him insulting the Count. Was he insulting him? Ileana didn't want the Count leaving, that was for sure.

"Well if it is forgotten by some, why do you all dwell on it?" she asked as they closed in on the rickety bridge, "Can't it be worked out somehow?"

"I'm afraid not," he sighed when they came to a sudden stop. "It'll end in blood... So the stories go, anyway."

"That's a shame," Ileana remarked skeptically, an eyebrow raised. "I thought we had moved past those types of stories."

"Not here... Definitely not here," the Romanian concluded, shooting her a wry grin. "I don't mean to depress you, Ileana. Don't think about it."

"It's hard not to."

He nodded, "Perhaps it would be best not to tell him we talked... I know he has a temper."

The woman shifted from foot to foot, knowing his sentiments to be absolutely true, "I suppose... It was nice to see you again, Velkan, really. It can get so lonely here sometimes."

"You can see me anytime," he murmured cheekily. "Anytime you can get away, that is."

--------------------------------------

Now, to say Dracula was a jealous man would be oddly correct. He hated when his brides went hunting for men because he knew how they would seduce them. The idea of someone taking away what belonged to him, rightfully and truly, sent his temper aflame, and all he could think about were ways in which he could punish the wrongdoer.

So when he spotted Velkan Valerious, once _again_, walking with Ileana, he couldn't stop his mind from going to all horrible things he could do to the boy. Didn't the lad remember what he had told them when he first met Ileana? Did he care?

The vampire had come home early that day, avoiding the sun with skill attained over years and years of being what he was, and he had planned to have some "bonding" time with Ileana. Honestly, the girl was like putty in his hands now. With months of careful flattery he had managed to tone down her argumentative nature, all the while being able to use her to control her uncle. It was a system that worked, if he was being perfectly honest. He knew she liked to take long strolls around the grounds, so his plan was to meet her somewhere far away from the castle, let them bond over walking - "You take long walks? So do I! Oh, what a coincidence! Let's walk together!" - and maybe he could put the final nail in and give her a quick kiss, just to really sent her mind into a spiral. Hopefully she would be so befuddled with her feelings for him - he knew she fancied him, her heart always beat faster when he was around, and the blood was constantly pooling in her cheeks - then he could get her out of the laboratory completely, and then work Victor the way he desired. If she had no input on the Creation, then she wouldn't care how it was used in the end.

That was his overall goal, anyway. However, that was constantly being thwarted when Velkan Valerious popped back into her life. He made her heart beat too, and it bothered the esteemed Count to no end. And so, he had followed in the shadows as Velkan offered to take Ileana back to the castle, listening in silence to the conversation that followed. He was a smarter boy than the Count gave him credit for, since he knew better than to spill Dracula's one secret to a girl that was just begging for it. Instead, he skirted around the issue, and Dracula assumed that it was going to be up to him personally to let Ileana know what he truly was. If he ever decided to do so, that is. Why bother spilling such a secret? Where would it get you? No where.

The vampire remained perched on a low branch on a nearby tree, cocking his head to the side as Velkan bid Ileana a fond farewell. What was he getting at? The young mortal prince would, no doubt, use her, just as Dracula was using her, to better himself and his family in this never-ending war. It dawned on Dracula that with that information in mind, he could turn Ileana completely against the mortal, if he chose to do so. For now, he would simply continue to make her desire him. Flirt. Bring her gifts. Occasionally stroke her hair, her arm, something. It was working, for now.

Crouched down low, knees bent, his arms hung loose between them as Velkan strode back toward the treeline, rifle over his shoulder and a curious expression on his face. It was one that Dracula couldn't read at the present time, but the boy's heart was jumping. His lip twitched irritably, and he leapt to a nearby tree, following the boy into the forest with all the speed and skill that had been given to him since rebirth. Suddenly, the boy stopped. His heart rate thudded noisily in the Count's ears. His breathing stilled. Perhaps it was time to make himself known, though he was sure the young Valerious sensed a presence with him in the trees. Sliding down gracefully from the branch, Dracula landed soundlessly behind Velkan, "What are you doing with her, Velkan?"

The boy whipped around, and in impressive speed fired off a round into Dracula's chest, the gunshot echoing in the once still forest. Some birds twittered off from a nearby tree, and Dracula glanced down at the gaping hole in his chest. Frowning, he picked out the silver bullet and tossed it aside, a bored expression on his face, "Really?"

"Instinct and habit, Count," Velkan mused, the gun still held at the ready to fire once more. It wasn't as though it would cause the vampire any harm, but it was... a nuisance, to say the least. Dracula cocked an eyebrow, "Do I need to repeat my question?"

"I'm going to take her away from you," Velkan spat. "Her and her uncle. I know they are making something for you, Count-"

"What a clever boy."

"And I won't let it happen!"

Humans and their misguided sense of right and wrong. The Count rolled his eyes, then took a step forward, which Velkan countered with a quick one back, "They are my guests... They are studying science."

"We've had a lot of grave robberies lately," Velkan snapped, glaring at the vampire. "Don't tell me it's for science, Count."

"Grave robbery?" the vampire repeated, eyebrows shooting up, "Don't be ridiculous... It must be one of your peasants. My people are good people. Poor Ileana gets faint at the sight of blood."

"Guess she won't be hanging around for one of your dinners then," the mortal chuckled, his finger tightening on the trigger of his rifle momentarily, then relaxing. "Let them go."

Dracula grinned at him lazily, "No. Besides, Ileana likes my company... I make her heart race. It's endearing, really."

"You're twisted, Count," the man spat, the rifle up again. "Aren't three of our countrywomen enough for you?"

"What makes you think I return the feelings?"

"I know you wouldn't... A dead heart has no feelings."

Dracula snorted, "Too right you are, young prince. But this conversation bores me. I will warn you one last time to stay away from her and the castle grounds. The next time I find you here, I'll kill you. Then there will be one less Valerious to save you all from Purgatory."

A gunshot rang out in the forest once more, only to be accompanied by a bout of sadistic laughter.


	8. Bread and Butter

-insert same disclaimer of van helsing characters as usual here-

* * *

Honestly. Men. When they were hungry, with their stomachs grumbling, it was as if nothing but food could quell their irritable natures. Victor was no exception to this idea, and Ileana found herself growing impatient with him. The food from the village was to be delivered within the hour, and he was acting as though they had housed an empty eatery for weeks. Really, they finished the food at breakfast, knowing that the Count's servants would bring the week's shipment of food from the village by the afternoon. But no, Victor was hungry, and therefore everything Ileana may accidently do wrong was a frustration to him. The last straw had been her inability to locate one of the charts that she had recently drawn up of the Creature's brain design. He sent her out of the lab in a hurry, demanding that she oversee the food arrival and alert him as soon as it was prepared. Turns out, as she was leaving, she caught Igor pulling the etching out from a pile of papers he had in his hand, claiming to have found it somewhere in the back. Annoying bastard.

Spring had turned to summer, and Ileana's dislike for the disfigured man had grown. It wasn't as though he was ever openly rude to her, but he was... sly. Devilish and tricky, it seemed like he was constantly trying to undermine her in front of her uncle, and lately he was doing such a good job with it. Although she had expressed her concern with him to Victor, the man was still solid on the Count's feel toward Igor, which meant Ileana had no hope in persuading him to think otherwise.

Ah, the Count. Dracula, as she was now allowed to call him. His first name, Vladislaus, was simply too informal for her, though for some time he had insisted that she used it. They were no longer strangers, having spent over half of the year together, but she still couldn't bring herself to do it. He had a tendency to flit in and out when the weather was bad, as though Ileana only needed company then. She had a sinking suspicion that he was sweet on her. Perhaps it was her inexperience with men, or perhaps it was because Victor spoke openly that he seemed as though he was courting her with all his gifts (Of which Victor seemed quite content for her to receive, mind you.), but there was something in his behaviour that made her question his motives toward her. Regardless of that, he had never pushed his boundaries with her, though sometimes she wished he would. She was getting to the age in life where she was looking to settle down with someone. Ileana didn't want to spend the rest of her life tending to her uncle and his experiments, so should Dracula be intent on courting her, he ought to make his intentions known! At least she would know how to feel... for now, she was stuck between pondering whether he had some interest in her, or simply saw her as a bit of amusement while visiting the castle.

The Creation, or Creature, or whatever they were calling him these days, was really starting to take form. Once Victor and Igor had stripped away the vital skin and organs from the grave robberies they had performed, Ileana found it easier to work when nothing was... intact. Although she had discovered a new skill in her etchings and drawings, she still took part in connecting wires to conduct electric energy, and she was an observer of the construction of the metal lightning rods on the roof of the laboratory tower. The rods would catch the electricity of their frequent storms, sending the energy down a countless array of wires and into the Creature, which was supposed to bring him to life. When he was ready, that is. For now, they had the upper torso and legs constructed. They were... large, slightly awkward, and she had no idea how they were going to connect it all together, but Victor had been studying the human form vigorously these past few months, and he was quite sure that he would find a way to bring everything together.

Ileana stalked away from the large laboratory, glancing out the window at the hazy day. The summer in the north was nothing like it was in the south, especially surrounded by these ominous mountains, and although it was much warmer outside, she still found the sun lacking. Maybe Vaserious, the village in which Ileana had been living for some months now, was simply doomed to spend the majority of its time in darkness. A little like England, to be honest...

Passing one of the stained glass windows, Ileana paused a moment as she spotted the gates to the courtyard opening, and she noted the familiar figures of Dracula's servants as they carried in sacs of food on their back. Where they managed to find such rich food was beyond her understanding. From her vague memories of the village, she never remembered seeing such delicious food anywhere, though she had never been there long enough to get a good look. Like the obedient niece and companion she was, she rarely ever tried to go back to the village. When she did, it sent off unnecessary tempers from all the constituents in the house, and it was pointless to argue around it. A firm look crossed her facial features, and she picked up the skirts of her pale purple summer dress – one that had been shipped over from England courteously by her aunt on her mother's side – as she quickly ran toward the main entrance of the castle. Her bare feet hardly made a sound on the stone floor as she moved, and she hastily pulled the wooden door open, brown hair swinging as the wind drifted in pleasantly to great her.

"Yes, yes, come in," she ordered warmly, smiling at the men. Naturally she was kind to them; they brought her food. However, not one of them spoke a word of English, and they would usually do nothing back but return the smile and utter a Romanian word or two. There were quite a number that she understood having lived here for so long, but the accents here were different, and it took a little to adjust to. "_Cuhnie, pofti_."

Kitchen, please. She knew at least that much to communicate with them. The men, dressed in traditional summer garments for the countryside, nodded and smiled as they always did, though by now they knew their way to the kitchen without her having to direct them, so she simply stood holding the door open as they all filed in, sacs of fruits, vegetables, breads, and raw meats all flung over their shoulders as they went. They returned moments later, some tipping their hats at her as they tucked away the few coins she and Victor usually left them to collect as a tip, and they were soon gone as quickly as they came. Naturally, all the food was left in a pile on the large table in the kitchen, and it was now Ileana's dubious task of sorting through them and putting them in their proper place. Then she would have to make Victor and Igor some lunch, and hopefully he would forgive her for "misplacing" the charts earlier.

Rolling her eyes heavenward at Igor's crafty nature, she sauntered toward the kitchen at the opposite end of the castle in comparison to the laboratory. Once she was inside, she grabbed her cream cooking apron and wrapped it around her waist, figuring the sooner she got to work, the sooner she would be finished. It seemed so demeaning, this 'women belong in the kitchen' attitude that her uncle had adopted every since they moved here. Back in their old lodgings, they had a servant who tended to such tasks, so perhaps Ileana was simply spoiled, and this had been her place in life all along. Regardless, she couldn't help but gag as she unpacked the raw meats to set in the cold eatery in the adjoining room. There were some that were already cooked, and she figured she could use that to slice and place on the sandwiches she had planned to cook for lunch. The buns, when they arrived, were always so fresh, and it was best to use them quickly before they turned stale.

"My," a familiar voice mused from the door to the kitchen as she retrieved a slate cutting board from a cupboard, "don't you just look the very essence of a polished summer bride."

A smile crossed her lips, and she set the board down on the counter as she turned back to eye her Romanian visitor. He looked the same as always, and it seemed even the warm summer winds couldn't bring Dracula out of his black riding attire. It was as though he was in a constant state of mourning with his clothes, although his riding boots were occasionally brown, and the rings he wore on his fingers varied in colour.

"I thought I should add colour to such a grey day," Ileana commented dryly, cocking her head to the side as she studied him, and noted that, as usual, he had some sort of package in his hand. And there was her uncle's voice at the back of her head again, insisting that he was courting her with all his plush gifts. The woman arched an eyebrow playfully, drying her slightly meaty-smelling hands on her apron, "So what did you bring me? You've been gone an awful long time, Count."

The last time she had seen him was nearly two weeks earlier, which might not have seemed like long to most, but she was used to seeing him at least once every few days. The man shrugged his shoulders, setting the package behind his back as he stepped into the room, "Perhaps I had hoped absence would make the heart grow fonder."

"Or you knew I'd get more and more curious about what you'd bring me back," she mused, trying to see around him. "Or maybe that isn't for me?"

"No, it's for the other charming woman in the castle," he chuckled, rolling his eyes quickly before walking over toward the table. There were still quite a few vegetables and cheeses that she needed to put away, and he pushed them to the side as he set the slim, albeit wide, black box on the table before taking a step back. She looked from him to what he had brought her, then back again, and he nodded his head toward it. Normally Ileana wasn't outwardly excited for his presents, and she accepted them with all modesty and a humble tone... but it was all this silly talk of courting that had made her a little more giddy than usual to see him again. Clearly they were putting ideas in her head, that uncle and the little nagging feelings she had, but perhaps they were correct?

She gently pulled off the lid of the box, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the exquisite material beneath it. Casually setting the lid aside, Ileana carefully extracted the garment that he had purchased for her. It was a summer dress, no doubt, but dark enough to suit his style. A deep green, one that fit some of the darkest pines in the surrounding forest, was the shade of the dress, with no sleeves and a lower neckline than she was used to with her dresses. It simply reeked of expense, and she looked back at him, eyes wide as she wordlessly questioned the extravagance of it.

"It's from Paris," he informed her, taking a step up behind her and running a hand along the material as she held it before her. There were dark patterns around the waist line, giving the impression of a corset without actually having to wear one. Judging by the length of it, it would show off her ankles from the front, though the back seemed a touch longer.

"Is that where you were?" she inquired absently, her eyes following his fingers as they touched the fabric, "Paris?"

"Yes," he replied softly. "Visiting an old friend."

"You never told me you were leaving the country," Ileana remarked, glancing back over her shoulder at him. He smirked weakly, "I wasn't aware that I needed to."

"You don't," she replied quickly, returning her focus to the dress. "This is lovely... It's... beautiful and I'm sure it will look stunning on, but I can't think of anywhere I would wear it."

After all, she was wearing some purple contraption from England that seemed like something a forest nymph would wear, lacking a figure with a square-neckline. This was the appropriate attire for her work around the castle, and even the village wouldn't give her an excuse to wear something this fine.

"A Hungarian prince, a distant relative of mine, his wife just gave birth to a son," he explained pleasantly, "and there is to be some celebrating in Budapest in two days with all of his other distant relatives and close ones so that he can show the infant off. There will be fireworks and shows from their army... I should like to bring you and your uncle as my guests."

"Oh," she breathed, understanding finally, yet also noticing that he was standing much closer to her now than he had been before. "Oh, well that seems... like an occasion to wear such a nice dress."

"Indeed it does," he murmured softly, reaching forward and delicately tucking her hair behind her ears, "although I might need some help convincing your uncle to leave the laboratory for a day or so to come join in the festivities."

"I... I don't see why I couldn't help with that," she stated, her voice quivering as she felt his cold finger run down from her ear to her neck, down her shoulder, where it paused for a moment, then fell back to his side. A smile was on his pale lips as she looked back at him, and he nodded, "Good... I would be very upset if you couldn't join me because of work."

"We'll see what we can do, I suppose."

There was a moment of silence between the pair, and she shifted from foot to foot as she pulled the dress close to her body, eyes glancing down at it as he resumed his prior action, this time gently running his finger along her cheek. This had to be it. He must have felt some fleeting fancy for her, or he wouldn't pay this much attention to her... He wouldn't buy her such expensive dresses and want to whisk her off to Budapest – albeit with Victor in tow, unfortunately – and there wouldn't be a reason for... touching her like this. Her cheek must have felt on fire to his cold touch, as she was no doubt blushing profusely at the attention from a man. It was the first real time any had ever taken their ... possible affections any father than mild flirting with Ileana, and while it made her nervous, it was sort exciting too!

She inhaled unsteadily as his entire hand now cupped under her chin, his expression somewhere between serious and curious. She blinked rapidly as he took a step in closer, and there was nothing she could think of doing with her hands but keep them holding the dress up to her body, her one current barrier between him and her. There was another pause, though they clearly both knew what was going to happen, and she licked her lips hesitantly. He was going to kiss her. Her first real kiss and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She had no woman to school her in these matters... And there was a sudden panic that she would be a terrible kisser because she had no idea on this green Earth what she was supposed to do. Maybe it would just come naturally?! Oh, who knows. Her heart fluttered violently as he dipped his head down, his lips very gently pressing against hers.

It was still a shock that he was so cold. She sort of assumed that he would be, seeing as every other part of his body was, but the sensation made her suck in a gust of air quickly, one of her hands tentatively reaching out to touch the buttons of his jacket as she turned to face him. This wasn't so bad, really. She didn't have a clue why she had expected it to be so much more... worrying. At least, for the moment, it didn't seem like one needed a lot of skill to do this. His lips were firm, and the pressure between them increased slightly. She liked this...

Within a moment, he stepped away quickly, releasing every bit of her and creating a sizeable gap between their bodies. Stunned, she stared at him for a moment, and he turned his head back to the door, hands behind his back politely, and not a second later she heard Victor come grumbling down the hallway, his muttering echoing in the air that seemed so still now. She would need more time to compose herself, and she assumed that there was nothing she could do now to remove the bedazzled expression from her face.

"Ileana," her uncle snapped before he had even stepped into the kitchen, "I thought I told you to tell me when the food arrived, I'm quite..."

He trailed off as he came to an abrupt halt not two steps into the room, no doubt taking in the scene between Dracula and Ileana. Her flushed cheeks probably gave them away, and there was, once again, a moment of awkward silence, until Dracula nodded his head in a greeting toward him, "Victor."

"Dracula," he returned, clearing his throat, "I... Er..."

"He brought me a dress," Ileana stated, formulating the only sentence that could come out of her mouth in a somewhat rushed fashion, "from Paris! Isn't it lovely?"

"Oh, yes, dumpling, just gorgeous," he replied, resuming his usual bubbly manner that he adopted whenever Dracula was around. "You really do spoil her something terrible, Count."

"Hardly as often as I would like," Dracula noted. "I was telling your niece earlier... A relative of mine, a Hungarian prince, just had a son, and he is having a celebration in Budapest this Friday. I was hoping you and your niece could accompany me as guests... Something of a two day holiday, which I think is much deserved with all the progress you've made these past few months."

Ileana's eyes landed on her uncle, no doubt looking as though she was pleading with him to agree to it. He cleared his throat once again, "Yes, a holiday... Yes, I think that would be quite a sight to see, the capital all decorated up. I've always wanted to attend something like that!"

"It's settled then?" the Count mused, glancing back between the other pair in the room, "I shall fetch you Thursday night, and we will arrive in Budapest the next day to enjoy the festivities that night."

"Sounds brilliant," Ileana commented, flushing again when he glanced back at her with a slight smile. With that, he bid them farewell until then, and departed. Leaving Ileana standing alone in the kitchen with her uncle, they both looked at each other, clearly aware of the situation, yet neither were willing to talk about it with one another.

"I'll bring your lunch in a moment, Uncle," she finally forced out. He nodded, then quickly vacated the kitchen, leaving her alone. She reached up and gently put the tips of her fingers to her lips, a chilly sensation still present.

***********************************************************************************

"It hardly seems logical-"

"This man and Dracula are relatives, therefore it seems almost certain he'll attend the celebrations!"

"Yes, but then we too are related-"

"But we don't need to heed the invite!" Velkan argued with his father, knowing that for once he was right. "We'll take the Frankenstein castle when we are sure he'll be gone... We'll take back Ileana and her uncle, should they still be alive, and roast the local who is helping that villain!"

A round of thunderous cheers erupted from the meeting. This Friday... It would be a day to remember.


	9. Meaningful

**-insert same disclaimer as always here regarding borrowed characters–**

"Uncle," Ileana chastised firmly, hands planted on her hips, "if you don't feel well enough to travel, you clearly aren't well enough to work."

Victor glanced up from his desk, the look of a guilty child on his face, and he cleared his throat, "Chick pea, I merely don't think it is wise to travel with a congested nose and a painful throat. I could infect others... What if I infected the royalty we'd be mingling with?"

Her eyes narrowed, though the young woman had somehow suspected this of him. Although he had been outwardly pleased for the invite to attend Dracula's "little" gathering at the time it was given, something in her gut told her that Victor wouldn't be pried away from his work for long. That morning, he had suddenly come down with a terrible cold. All the symptoms were visible, so she knew he wasn't faking by any stretch, but she silently wondered if he had purposely made himself sick in order to get out of leaving the castle. Dracula, as far as she was concerned, was unaware of her uncle's disinclination to join them in Budapest for the festivities, and she had a feeling that it would be her job to tell him so when the carriage arrived that night to fetch her.

Now, should he completely back out of this little gathering, then Ileana was quite aware of the fact that she would be traveling with Dracula alone to some foreign country. It made her stomach knot in that painfully excited way, and she wondered whether or not it would be appropriate. Naturally they wouldn't share a room, but now that they would no longer have Victor as their buffer, who knows what would happen?! Perhaps he would carry on with courting her, but now he would be able to do it without Igor or her uncle lurking in the background. Perhaps it would be nice to have some space from those two to simply spend time with a man who clearly enjoyed flattering her and doting on her with gifts and whatnot.

"All right, away from your desk," she ordered sharply, stepping around all the cluttered piles of papers and books. Ileana grasped his arm, pointedly ignoring all sorts of protests that he managed to squeak out, and hauled him to his feet. Thankfully he was sick enough to move without enduring much struggling, and Ileana found him easy to escort from his office. She gave him a light nudge toward the staircase which would lead up to his room, albeit directly above his office, and she informed him that he was to remain in bed for the rest of the night. Should he want something, she was sure Igor would be obliged to fetch it for him. Once he was well enough again, she claimed that there would be no issue in having him go back to working like a maniac, as usual. He was reluctant, argumentative and stubborn beyond belief, but that was to be expected. The Creation had taken over most of his life these days, and she knew that it was like an addiction. He just couldn't get enough of it, yet he couldn't take a step out of his body to see his own behaviour. She prayed, as he sombrely marched up the stairs to his room after some arguing, that he would stay up there and get a good night's rest for once.

Her mind, however, was not completely focused on her uncle, nor would it be for a moment longer. Dracula's carriage was bound to arrive sometime soon, and her luggage was waiting down by the main door. It wasn't much. The dress that Dracula had purchased for her from Paris was tenderly folded up in a small bag of its own, to ensure that nothing else damaged it or tampered with it. The other bag was simply filled with some necessities. There was a nice pair of small heels, black, along with a garment to sleep in and two of her regular plain dresses to wear around when they weren't... well, being entertained by royalty. The thought made her giddier than she thought it would have, and she could barely contain her massive grin whenever she thought about it. This event wasn't something Ileana would ever think she would become accustomed to, but maybe this was going to be the start of something different. Something that did not always have to involve a hypothesis and variables, preferably...

Igor was somewhere in the castle, no doubt locked away in his room in the lower quarters, and Ileana barely spared a thought of saying goodbye to him. A sound of thunderous hooves echoed in the courtyard, and Ileana hastily rushed to a nearby window, nibbling on her lip as she spotted Dracula seated out front with the driver, tugging at the thick leather reins to get the horses to come to a stop. Touching the glass delicately, she watched him only for a moment before rushing to the main entrance, snatching a hanging summer cloak along the way and gently wrapping it around her shoulders. The skirts of her beige dress barely touched the ground as she moved, nor did the soles of her brown flats give off any indication that she was even there. She had learned, it seemed, to move with silence around the castle. Victor said it was a bad thing, but she couldn't help but argue the contrary. Better for sneaking up on Igor, you see.

Dracula was just pushing the heavy gated door open when Ileana rounded the corner, slowing to something of a brisk walk when his eyes darted up to see her. Her curly hair was slung up in a ponytail, though she still absently tucked loose bits of it behind her ears in an effort to look aloof when he glanced at her. It was simply a reaction.

"I'm terribly sorry," Ileana started as she walked up toward him, "but Victor seems to have fallen-"

She was cut off when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, his head cocked to the side as he listened, "Yes?"

Taken back by his new greeting, she cleared her throat and retracted her hand from his cold one when she felt him loosening his grip, "... ill. He woke up this morning terribly under the weather, and I'm afraid he won't be coming to Budapest."

She wouldn't call the expression on his face one of delight, but he certainly didn't seem all that upset by any stretch. There was something of cold amusement in his eyes, and he released a sigh, "Does that mean you'll be staying behind to nurse him?"

She blinked, "Nurse him? ... Oh, Heavens no! He's a grown man who simply needs a good sleep and he should be fine... Hardly something I need to be around for."

The man grinned at her, and then leaned down to hoist up her bags, swinging them easily over his broad shoulder. He said nothing on the issue, and left it to her imagination to wonder whether or not he was actually pleased with the developments that were unfolding.

She followed him quickly outside, a warm gust of the summer air rushing over her as he secured her baggage in the back trunk of the carriage, and she beamed as he held the door open for her, as any gentleman should. However, she was a touch put off when he shut the door behind her, leaving her by herself in the carriage, and seemed to take the driver's company over hers. The carriage jolted forward suddenly, sending her stumbling back into the plush seat, and she frowned. Why wouldn't he join her in here? It wasn't like they had to be sitting on top of each other, but it would have been nice if they had at least shared each other's company and conversation. A thought struck her, and she pondered whether or not he would simply wait for a while, making sure the driver was not bored off his rocker, and would then come down to join her for the remainder of the journey. It only made sense, did it not?

Hmm. Apparently not. Ileana found herself alone for pretty much the entire ride, and after a while she could no longer fight off sleep, and when she awoke, it was to the sound of city life. Sitting up, she ran a hand through the pieces of hair that had fallen loose, and finally spotted her companion seated across from her. He was holding back the small red curtain, no doubt watching the people as they passed. She could hear the loud hooves of their Romanian horses thundering away on cobblestone roads, which were uneven at best. Sighing loudly, Ileana dragged herself into a sitting position, which still didn't manage to drag Dracula away from his blank stare out the window. Glaring, she did a quick check to make sure she didn't look completely terrible – no drool stains or anything – and turned her attention to him, "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Long enough."

What was that supposed to mean? Frowning at him, she turned her own attention toward the window and pushed her curtain aside. It was drizzling outside. The sky was a rather dark shade of grey, and any of the people that were out in the streets were rushing about to get from one covered area to the next. There were quite a few vendors out still, shouting their goods as the carriage passed, and Ileana felt a cold chill sweep over her as a rumble of thunder echoed faintly in the distance. What a way to start a day of celebration. Honestly, it was like Dracula simply attracted bad weather. It matched her somewhat foul mood, and she leaned back in her chair, annoyed with his distance and annoyed that she was sure she had just spent the whole night alone while Dracula sat up top and conversed with the driver. Had she done something wrong? A quick glance at him made her doubt herself. Honestly, the last time they had been talking, he was smiling and carrying her bags! And now? Now he wasn't even looking at her.

"Have I done something wrong?" she inquired, figuring that she may as well get to the point before this whole thing got underway. She wasn't about to spend a whole two days with someone and not understand why they were cross at her. If it was for some ludicrous reason that couldn't be resolved, then she figured she may as well just go home and sit with Victor.

Dracula's eyes flickered across to her, and he arched an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"Have I done something to offend you?" she restated pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest, "I mean... I feel as though you won't even look at me, and you spent the entire ride up with the driver while I sat down here alone."

Her eyes narrowed as he released a little chuckle, and he cocked his head to the side, "Did you miss me while I was up there?"

Slightly taken back, she continued to fidget in her seat, somewhat unnerved by the way he had this uncanny ability to see right through her. Trying to shake off her nerves, she brought her eyes to his, "I thought it rude to simply shut me up, to be honest."

The man placed a hand on his chest, as though feigning a mockery of a hurt expression, and he leaned forward, "Terribly sorry, my dear Ileana. I'll keep that in mind for the future."

What was wrong with him? Was there something in Hungarian air that changed his mannerisms completely? As though sensing she found his current behaviour disdainful, he released a rather lengthy sigh and slouched back in his chair, "I don't want to be here, Ileana. You'll have to excuse my sarcasm... It isn't meant for you."

"Oh."

"My family and I, over here, don't quite see eye to eye, I'm afraid," he continued, pushing the curtain closed at his right and resting his hands in his lap. "I decided to come here because it was polite to do so, but I'm not all that pleased to find myself in their company again."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say, and she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to comfort him in his sulking mood. All forms of her prior irritation eased away with her new understanding, and she felt somewhat privileged to have a private look into his life. He smiled weakly, "Don't be. I brought you along so I could have at least one friendly face in the crowd."

Her cheeks tinted a rather embarrassing shade of red, and feeling very important, she couldn't help but beam at him. It made her feel ten times better to know that he was going to look to her as someone he could trust and depend on in a situation that clearly made him feel uncomfortable. It was flattering, really, and once again her uncle's voice rang shrilly in her head that the man was infatuated with her, and was most certainly going to continue courting her until he got what he wanted. Not that that sounded terrible or anything.

"Will anyone come out to greet us?" she inquired curiously, noting that they had left the main city streets and were following a wooded pathway now. He shrugged, "There are hundreds of people coming to this event, and I'm only a distant relative... I doubt they'll bother. We will be given a private cottage on their property, and that's that, I think."

"Oh."

Cottage. A shared little house? How many rooms would there be? Surely they wouldn't be sharing anything. How inappropriate! Sensing her thoughts once more, it seemed, the Count smirked and relaxed into his bench, "It's quite large. Suitable for more than two people, so we will both have quite a lot of space."

"Seems reasonable."

Oh, well at least that was sorted. Her eyes traveled in and among the plotted trees and over the gardens, and she knew that this was going to be a place to marvel at. Once this dreadful rain stopped, hopefully the sun would shine brightly and illuminate the glorious flowers and colours that this place had to offer. The castle was so dark and dreary by comparison, and this suddenly sparked a desire within her soul to get out of that place more often. Perhaps she could ask Dracula to take her places whenever he was around. After all, he wouldn't let her go into town alone, but maybe if he was an escort, or something, she wouldn't have to feel like a prisoner in her own home as often anymore.

When the carriage came to an abrupt halt, Ileana had to place a hand at the side to keep herself from stumbling forward and out of her seat. Silly things always stopped for fast, and for some reason she was forever on the wrong side of the carriage to handle the inertia that went along with it. Dracula rose quickly and made his way out of the carriage, head ducked to avoid hitting it on the roof, and she soon found herself staring at his awaiting hand. With a sigh, one that was difficult to decipher as contentment or annoyance, Ileana leaned forward and took it, inhaling sharply at the iciness that should have been expected by now, and gracelessly hauled herself out of the carriage. Before her stood what could have been considered a regular home, complete with a blooming garden and two stories. There were faint candles lit in all the windows, no doubt to illuminate their way on such a gloomy day, and Ileana had a feeling the Count exaggerated just a touch on the notion that this was a cottage. This was a rather large house, and it was strange that it should only be for the two of them.

"Come along, Ileana, let's get out of the rain."

His voice brought her straight from her thoughts, and she nodded, ducking her head a little to avoid the delicate droplets that splattered down. He brought an arm up and held it over her shoulder, the length of his cape keeping the water from getting through to her clothes. He didn't touch her, but she could literally feel the energy from his hand as it hovered over her shoulder, his arm across her back. She glanced up occasionally as they darted across the cobblestone walkway, their feet splashing in random puddles here and there, and she couldn't help but notice there was something... distant in his expression. Now that she thought about it, he regularly looked distant, and it ... bothered her. She could never quite understand why he appeared that way, but here it was, and she knew that there was nothing she could do about it. Her older female relatives always said that men were in a world completely of their own. Women should try to help with that world, but they were to never invade it and try to take over. Instead, watch from a distance, and that was exactly what Ileana planned to do.

**********************************************************************************

There was quiver of excitement that ran through Velkan as he stood in the safety of the forest, watching the castle before him without a hint of trepidation. The Head Bat had flown the coop this fine day – this fine cloudy day, granted – and had left the place virtually defenceless. All that they needed to do was storm the keep, take the prisoners back – specifically ensure that Ileana was safe – and then kill the rebel who had decided that it was perfectly logical to work with Dracula. For pay, he had no doubt. Honestly, money was slowly starting to drive the world these days!

He wasn't particularly sure what drove him to ensure that Ileana was safe out of everything. There was this... internal desire to make sure that she was out of harm's way. It almost seemed... cruel that she, as young as she was, had to suffer the fate of her uncle and work for the beast. All of the men were positive that none of them knew exactly who or what Dracula was, and there was little hope that he would ever casually slip it into conversation. The man simply made his blood boil, and he wouldn't be able to rest until he had brought justice to the family members that had died over the past four years in an effort to kill him. He was nothing but a stain on this land, a mark of a demon, and Velkan thought of nothing but being the one to finally send him back to where he belonged.

A silence had settled over the forest long before the men had sunk into it, hidden beneath the sea of green and nestled in amongst the pine. It wasn't as though they were necessarily hiding from anyone in particular, but it seemed wise to have some sort of... strategy. Yes, it was confirmed that Dracula's personal carriage – which seemed ridiculous in itself, seeing as the man could fly – was seen crossing the border early in the morning hours, with him atop it. That meant he was officially out of the country, and by doing so probably wouldn't suspect an attack on his latest pet project, whatever that might be.

His father stood nearby, running a rag over a sword. You could never be too careful when it came to operations such as these, and while they all knew that they outnumbered the occupants of the castle, it was better to be safe than sorry. All the men were armed, but they were lacking their usual vampire hunting tools. Dracula, it was safe to say, was out of the country, and the rest of the people inside were mortals. Once the situation was explained to them, and they understood that Velkan and his family were doing nothing but helping them escape this villain, they would be eternally grateful. If they were smart, they'd run far, far away, too.

A silent signal from his father sent the first couple of men out of the forest, creeping with stealth and agility, such so that Velkan felt a wave of pride swell in his heart. These were his people, and he couldn't have asked for a better sort. Another signal and another group of men started from the far left, then the right, and then it was finally time for Velkan and his father to head down toward the castle. It wasn't an aggressive storming, more like a silent coup. The men were efficient and steady as they started their assault on the gate. Tools clanged against it, while some started to climb the walls in an attempt to get in faster.

Then, for a very short moment, the sky turned a darker shade of grey. Frowning, Velkan paused in his gate smashing actions to glance upward, noting that the clouds had gotten heavier. Perhaps... Perhaps it was going to rain again today. However, the clouds didn't seem to look all that heavy, as they rolled in in such grand numbers that they appeared to be empty, but numerous. A few others took note of the sudden change in light, as it was usually a signal of an approaching vampire, but it was only Dracula who could control the weather. His brides usually only came out at night...

Or so they all thought. A sudden screech filled the air, and Velkan followed it, horrified. He knew exactly what Hellstorm was coming when that sound could be heard, and he glanced at his father. What were they going to do?! None of them were prepared to battle vampires... Not so far from their weaponries in the village! With a determined look on his face, one that mirrored his mentor and father, he turned away from the gate, catching three figures flying in at an alarming pace. There was no time to run, no time to scatter... They'd be here in a matter of seconds.

************************************************************************************

Oh, Christ.

Victor had the worst headache. He was quite sure he had a fever, his throat was aching, his glands were swollen, and he was pretty sure he was hallucinating. That, or Igor had suddenly decided to turn into a mildly attractive woman for a few hours the previous night. Naturally, Victor ignored all advice by his niece and had set to work right after she left. He had no worries about sending her off with the Count, simply because he could tell how much the man adored her. After all, why would he waste all that money on a woman he wasn't interested in making his wife?

After all, Victor had tried courting women in the past. It was a lot of effort, and after some time of being rejected, having gifts returned and whatnot simply because he couldn't dedicate enough time or attention to them... Well, he gave up trying. But the Count was different with his Ileana, wasn't he? He was thoughtful, polite, and he was just the sort of person that his brother would have wanted Ileana to marry! It was like Victor was still doing good deeds for him, despite the fact he was beyond the grave now.

His current state was a result of staying up to work last night. He knew, at the time, that he should have gone to sleep. It's a known fact that the body works to heal itself when the individual is asleep, and should he have taken the eight or so hours of sleep that he could have had instead of working, perhaps his condition wouldn't have been so bad now. It was a shame, since he could barely focus on anything he was doing anyway. ... Hell, he couldn't even remember what he had been doing! He did, however, recall that Igor looked like a woman at some point, and was constantly telling him that he was sweating, and perhaps his fever was spiking. So, at around four in the morning, stupidly, Victor called it a day and crawled into bed, only to awake at noon the next day feeling terrible. Sure, he ended up sleeping, but it wasn't a comfortable sleep. His body went from hot to cold, he vomited once – out the window, fortunately – and he was in a constant state of pain in the throat region.

_Christ._

And now, he was pretty sure he was hallucinating again. Oratory hallucinations, he assumed scientifically, because he was hearing something that sounded like a war going on outside his window. Naturally, the area in which he now called home was usually silent during the daylight hours, even in the misty fog that usually entrapped the village, but today something sounded different. There were men yelling and some ... excruciatingly high-pitched shrieks that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Were they slaughtering goats or something outside? This had to be a hallucination, as nothing seemed to make sense.

Rolling over in his small bed, his eyes flickered open wearily toward the circular window that overlooked a lot of the courtyard and surrounding moat. Groaning, the scientist ran a hand through his hair, then lazily sat up, wincing at the immediate pain in his throat when he swallowed. Why on Earth did people get sick? Naturally he knew the logical answer for this, but in his current state, he simply seemed unable to properly give a reason to his pain. Instead, he decided to check whether he was truly having oratory hallucinations or not, and should there be nothing outside, he'd crawl right back into bed and sleep the day away. Perhaps Ileana was on to something when she insisted he get a lot of sleep.

Groaning loudly, despite the pain it caused, Victor struggled to his feet and began a rather solemn march over toward the window. It was difficult, seeing as his physical body wouldn't really cooperate with his mind, but somehow he was managing to do it. Somehow. Placing both hands on either side of the window, he slumped forward, his tired eyes examining the scene before him. ... This had to be a hallucination. His stomach did something of a violent twist when he spotted three winged creatures, ones that mildly looked like women with red, blonde and black hair, soared high over a group of scattering villagers. They dipped down every so often, picking a man up and doing terrible, terrible things to him. Crying out suddenly, he watched as one snapped a neck and tossed a man in the moat. Forcing himself to look away, he stumbled backward and into his dresser. Stunned, he hastily crawled back into bed and prayed that it would all simply... stop. The sounds, the cries, the images in his head... What were those things?! Was all of this even real?! Terrified, his body was overtaken by a sudden chill, and he nestled deeper under the covers, hoping to retain some sort of control over his mind. However, before he could even think a coherent thought about what was going on, he felt himself drifting back to sleep. At that point, something told him that should his slip to the world of dreams come so easily, then clearly none of this was real...


	10. Stop

"They really are a marvelous invention," Ileana mused as she gazed toward the sky, grinning a little wider as another explosion of colour filled the air, "I read that the Chinese have had them for centuries."

"They were our providers for the evening," the Count stated simply from her left, chuckling as a nearby woman gasped as an intricate blue firework twirled out across the water.

She glanced sideways, only taking in his appearance for a split second so she wouldn't miss the show. He was clad in a dress suit, black as usual, and his lengthy dark hair was held back with an intricate pin of silver, on which a dragon was etched. He did look rather dashing this evening, and she was certainly proud to have him as her escort. The festivities has been going on since early in the morning, and despite the fact it was finally a sunny day, the Count would not go outside. He claimed to have a frightful headache, and spent the whole day in bed in his chambers, all the curtains drawn and beneath the covers. Although she was permitted to go explore the grounds, if she wished, she did not want to do it by herself, and was content to wait for him in the little cottage. She had even cooked him something to eat at lunch time, and as pleased as he was with it, he didn't seem to have an appetite. Apparently the headaches came during blissfully warm and sunny weather; sensitive eyes and skin, he had said, though Ileana was somewhat hesitant to believe him.

He had been sickly pale enough to look ill though, and once evening finally came he perked right up, and apologized profusely for keeping her indoors all day. Apparently there had been circus acts and markets set up all across his relative's yard to welcome the birth of the new son into the family, but Ileana figured she would not have had much fun without the Count there. They dressed quickly, he in his formal attire, and she in the exquisite dress he had given her. Before long, they were immersed deep within the party guests. The Count spoke with a few of them, though most seemed younger than Ileana. He steered clear of the elder members of the family, claiming there was some bad blood between them, and after he had given his congratulations to the happy couple, and let Ileana hold the newborn for a moment or so, the two left the groups of people in preference for each other's company.

This whole thing, apparently, was just a formality for the Count. He wanted to show his face so the family wouldn't send him pesky letters about never attending these sorts of events. Should they see him once a year, at least, then they would be placated. These Hungarians were from his mother's side, apparently, and had lost touch with whatever family he had left in Romania; they rarely visited. It was then that Ileana felt some sort of connection between her and the Count; she barely saw her family, aside from her uncle, and it was not a big deal by any means. Many argued that family should be the most important thing in their world, but Ileana hardly knew the difference between seeing them and not. It was a norm by now to be without them.

Currently, she and the Count were standing amongst the throngs of people who were outside to watch the Chinese firework display. It was getting close to midnight, though she hardly felt tired, and she had a feeling the slim glass of ... some sort of alcohol was helping keep her spirits up. The Count's hands gripped the thick stone railing of the small bridge that they stood on, which crossed over the moat that surrounded the Hungarian fortress.

"I've read all about them, you know," Ileana stated, nodding her head up toward the loud bursts of light and colour, "but I never thought I would get to see them in person."

"Yes, they are a wonder, aren't they," the Count sighed, sounding somewhat less impressed with them than she was. Arching an eyebrow, she glanced at him quickly, not wanting to miss a thing, "You seem bored."

"You are very observant."

"But how does this not amaze you?" she demanded, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a quick sip, "It's sheer genius!"

There was a pause as another particularly loud explosion went off, and Ileana was among the many to grin brilliantly at the green and yellow combination as they danced for their audience. The Count smirked down at her, though she hardly noticed. What she did notice, however, was the slight touch of his arm across her back as he slipped closer, his right hand now resting beside her on the railing.

"Let's just say... I've seen them before."

She shook her head, "That hardly seems like a reason to disapprove now. I think I shall still be enthralled every single time I see them, should I see them again."

"They do get old," he insisted, the point of his chin resting on the side of her head, "or perhaps I am too old for them."

"Nonsense!" she laughed, tilting her head back to look at him, "You can't be that old!"

"You would be surprised, my dear."

"Well, how old are you?"

She wasn't exactly sure why she was so comfortable with this, the way they were standing and simply engrossed in a totally pointless conversation. It seemed... appropriate, and right. Now, Ileana was certainly not a romantic. No, her head was firmly planted in her books and on the ground where it belonged, but she couldn't ignore the setting. The fireworks. Her gorgeous dress. The way she could occasionally feel a puff of exasperated air come from his nose when he laughed. This was different than anything they had ever done before, and she could literally feel her heart pounding heartily in her chest. Surely he could feel it too.

"I feel centuries old."

"That isn't what I asked, Count."

There was the puff of air again. She grinned, pleased that she could keep him mildly entertained, at least.

"Well, I'll be forty-two this winter," he finally replied, "which is quite a good deal older than you, so that makes me old."

"Oh."

"Does that bother you?" he asked softly, this time his mouth next to her ear. She could feel her skin prickle as he spoke, and she took another hasty sip of her drink, "No, not at all. Why should it?"

It was normal, was it not, for a man to be older than a woman? Most of the relationships she knew of consisted of a man at least five years older than his bride, and no one batted an eye when a man in his sixties was married off to some young girl from another family simply to make a political connection. No, there was absolutely nothing wrong with this. Studying her drink pointedly, her skin danced once more as he tucked her loose hair back behind her ear, and planted a chaste kiss on her temple. There was no way either of them could ignore what this was anymore. It wasn't simply one kiss from a month or so ago; this was something. What it was, Ileana hardly knew, but it was something more than a working relationship, and certainly a great deal more than a mere friendship.

Her lips parted slightly as she sucked in a bit of air, eyes darting to the side to see if anyone was watching. He had moved away from her temple to her ear, his lips grazing across it momentarily, and then ducked down to a sensitive spot on her neck. No one seemed interested in them in the slightest bit; they were all too enthralled with the ongoing show, which was becoming louder and more extravagant with each firework. Her cheeks flushed a dark red as he applied more pressure behind each kiss to her neck, and her stomach knotted when she felt his hand come up to rest on her hip. Everything, except the knotted stomach, felt weak, and it was as though he was the only thing that was keeping her from crumbling to her knees. No one had ever done this to her before; ever.

Then, as quickly as the moment had started, it was over. A drunken young man stumbled into the man standing next to Ileana, who subsequently knocked into her. The sudden jolt back to reality caused her to release her drink, which landed with a small splash in the lake.

"Oh, goodness," she muttered, somewhat embarrassed that she had done it, while a little annoyed that it was gone, "that was stupid."

"Don't think of it," the Count murmured, taking her hand in his and gently leading her away from the railing. "We will simply have to get you another one. Come along, Ileana."

She clutched at his hand firmly as they navigated through the crowds of people that had somehow managed to fill up the entire little bridge and not cause it to collapse. His hand was cold, as usual, though she couldn't imagine why. Every inch of her body was on fire, so much so that not even the chill in the night air was enough to cool her down. How could he does this to her? How could he have such an effect?

Once inside, the Count led her into the main party hall, then turned to face her, "I will get us something to drink. Wait here... the hall is far too crowded with my drunken relatives."

She smiled at him shyly when she noticed he lingered a moment to look her over once, and then quickly vanished into the crowd, no doubt trying to find the drink's table. Surely there was a servant nearby who could have provided them with something...

"You know, I never thought he'd actually bring one of his wives with him!" came a voice from behind her, causing Ileana to flinch rather violently in shock. She turned back, and eyed a drunken looking blond fellow with a thick Hungarian droll, "He always keeps them hidden away."

"I beg your pardon?" she snapped, eyebrows knitting together, "But did you say 'wives'. The Count has wives?"

The man sucked in his cheeks, as though he had said too much, "You aren't married?"

She shook her head, and he shrugged, "Ah. Well. Need not worry, my dear. They can't be as pretty as you if we have never seen them!"

"Them?" she repeated, her stomach knotting again, but not for the same reason as before, "Plural?"

"Three, from the last time I remember," he slurred, swaying a little as he stands, "and I suppose he'd like a fourth. He's very traditional, you know?"

She couldn't bring herself to listen anymore. She had been such a fool! Stepping around the fellow, who was still mumbling something about weddings, Ileana hurried back the way she came, her head still a little dizzy from the alcohol from before. However, once she was in the fresh air, things began to clear for her. Of course he was married! A man of his age would have been married a long time ago, and apparently three times wasn't enough for him. She had never seen these women before, but he must have gone off to see them whenever he left Castle Frankenstein for weeks at a time. Things were all starting to make sense now. How could a man so rich, so powerful, and of a royal breed be even remotely interested in her alone... No, she was a fool. Her feet moved faster as she raced down a spiraling staircase that led down to the back cottages. There were several of them on the property for the guests, though she still knew the way to her own.

What was she to do now? Leave? There was nowhere she could go here; she was in a completely different country, alone, and with no money to her name. Perhaps she would just have to sit in a stony silence until they went back home, and once there she would completely ignore every part of him. She was furious! Well, hurt and furious. As if she would ever take part in some harem of other women because one man was so... old-fashioned that he couldn't adapt to modern times and simply take one wife! She brushed away an angry tear, hating that she was wearing the dress he had given her.

Footsteps echoed on the stone walkway behind her, but she ignored them. The way she was feeling, no man would dare try to assault her in the dark.

"Ileana!"

Ugh. The sound of his voice made her blood boil, and she kept walking, her hands clenched at her side. The footsteps drew louder, and she could only deduce that he was running after her. A moment or so later, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, easing her to a stop. It was funny; he didn't seem out of breath. Shaking her head, she wrenched her arm from him and took two steps back, her voice laced with fury, "You lied to me!"

He seemed taken back, and his face fell momentarily, "What?"

"You... You're married!" she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "And I know you never told me you weren't, so it isn't really a lie, but you never said otherwise, and that makes this just as bad!"

For a moment, he almost seemed amused, and with that extra slap in the face, Ileana turned on her heel and continued to stomp toward the cottage, furious that he wasn't denying it immediately. That drunk was right, and Ileana was a fool.

"Ileana," he called, his voice somewhat less concerned now as it was before as he followed her at a distance. "Who told you this?"

"Some... Some drunken relative of yours," she stated, noting the fault in her source, but ignoring it. "He said you already had three that were never brought out, and that you were looking for a fourth, which explains why I'm here!"

The small heels of her shoes clomped noisily as she tromped up the walkway to the cottage, the wind rustling in the nearby trees. She clutched the doorknob fiercely and tried to turn it, only to realize that it was locked, and that Dracula had the key. Sucking in her cheeks in frustration, she turned around, glaring at him as he stood on the walkway, watching her, "I need the key."

"No," he replied, somewhat gently, "Ileana, let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it!" she said curtly, "Just give me the key so I can go inside and lock myself in my room until we leave!"

He rolled his eyes, muttering something in Romanian, something that made her feel as if he was being a patronizing arse, and it did nothing to help with anything. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him pointedly, waiting until he would eventually just give in, realize he was in the wrong, and let her in.

"I _had_ three wives, yes," he started, taking a step toward her, "but my luck with them is limited, as they're all dead."

She swallowed thickly, "What?"

"It's a bit of a family joke, really," he mused somewhat darkly, "that I can't seem to hold onto a wife any longer than a few months, maybe a year."

At that moment, she wasn't particularly sure what to say. Half of her didn't want to believe him, what with all the secrecy in his life, and all the things she didn't know about him, but the expression on his face pulled at her heartstrings.

"Verona, my first wife, died in childbirth," he stated, ticking each one off with his fingers, "I was twenty. Aleera, my second wife, was killed in a riding accident, so I am told, while she was out with a hunting party. I was twenty-seven. Marishka, her sister and my third wife, committed suicide over the grief of losing Aleera two years later, and I stopped looking for someone to marry ever since."

A silence settled over the two of them, and Ileana wrung her hands together somewhat anxiously, unsure of a way to break it. The way he looked now, so torn over admitting their deaths... well, it made her want to draw him in and hold him, just so he would feel better. However, there was other thoughts that still tugged at her mind, her logic and reason, and she wasn't about to abandon them.

"But-"

"Surely the man you were talking to can't be trusted," he argued, coming a few steps closer to take her hands in his. "He was drunk... and no doubt riding on the family joke to humiliate me. I told you that there was bad blood between myself and some of them."

"That's... true," she managed to get out, remembering his tales of some of the conflicts that have been in place over the last few years, "I... suppose."

"And if I am finally looking for another wife," he murmured, their faces as par as she stood up on the stone step, "would that really be such a terrible thing?"

Ileana blinked, taken back by the statement, though she was hardly given a moment to ponder over it. He swept quickly, his large hand cupping her face, and pulled her into a worthwhile kiss.

* * *

He was a brilliant sod, wasn't he? Dracula couldn't help but feel somewhat proud over his quick thinking. Each one of their deaths fit, did it not? Verona, the bride who longed for children more than any of them, dying while giving birth to one... Poetic, down to the last detail. Aleera was the risk taker, and had she been allowed to go on hunting parties centuries ago, surely she would have somehow pushed her horse too hard and lost control. And then there was Marishka... Young, selfish... Suicide suited her. She had threatened it many times when he would not give her the attention she thought she deserved over the other two, but she had still yet to figure out a suitable way to actually make him concerned.

When she had told him that he had lied to her, he thought for a moment that he had been discovered. There were a few in his family that knew Dracula was not human, though they had been terrified into silence long ago. These men were now endowed with lengthy white beards and pot bellies, and they avoided him so long as he did the same. However, that story was still safe, for now, and it kept in infinitely amused that Ileana became so hot and bothered over the thought of him having other women in his life. Oh, if only she knew!

He kicked the door closed behind him, carrying her slim figure into the dark. Her arms wrapped snugly around his neck, and he casually tossed the set of keys he had been given somewhere behind him. She was not a horrible kisser, considering he was the first man she kissed. She was shy and unsure of herself, which was normally not attractive in a woman, but Ileana somehow made it work because she balanced it out with scientific genius. But everything else about her reeked of virgin. In a literal sense, of course, but also figuratively. Her skin had never been pierced, her blood had never been tasted... He could smell its sweetness through her skin, and she had absolutely no idea how much will power it took to only kiss her. He could have easily taken whatever he pleased, and made her forget it should that satisfy him, but he couldn't do that. Not now, not tonight. There was the image of the wounded husband that he had to play, and she fell right into it.

Navigating through the darkness was never a problem anymore, and even with his attention on Ileana, it was a breeze finding his bedroom upstairs. The sun had caught him off guard that morning, and he didn't have the energy in him after a day of traveling like a human to change the weather. So he had spent the day in bed, an actual human bed, for the first time in a very long time. Perhaps spending the night in it now would be slightly more interesting. He eased her back down onto the bed, crawling up her body as she inched back, trying, no doubt, to keep up with him. It was difficult sometimes to hold back, but she was delicate, and could be easily broken should be apply too much pressure. She was just a little girl, after all. An untouched, unbitten, and untasted little girl...

His lips found her neck once more, his favourite spot, and he felt her shudder beneath him. She enjoyed it just as much as he did, and things couldn't have been going more smoothly. And then it stopped. Ileana mumbled something against his lips, and he pulled back, and eyebrow quirked, "Are you all right?"

Her breathing was heavy, and he realized that it would look odd if his was not, so he added some in for extra effect. It was annoying to remember to be human sometimes. The girl nodded her head, but shuffled out from underneath him anyway, "Yes, yes I'm fine... It's just... I feel a little lightheaded, that's all."

"That will be the alcohol in the beverages," he sighed, slightly disappointed, though not in the way another man would have been. He had patience. Even in life he knew how to bide his time, and nothing had changed in death. "Perhaps we should stop?"

She bit her lip, and then nodded, "Yes... I think that would be best."


	11. Complete

"I really hope he took the rest he needed," Ileana sighed as she gazed out the carriage window. "He was in a bit of a state when we left."

The Count gave something of a chuckle, and then placed a hand on top of hers, "I'm sure exhaustion would have driven him to seek some rest."

She shot him a sceptical look, and then turned her gaze back to the window. Castle Frankenstein was in the distance, and the village was nestled in the crevice of the mountains below them. The pair had decided to stay in Hungary a few days longer than they had originally planned. Naturally, Dracula had no problems securing the cottage for the remainder of their stay. Something had happened the night of the celebrations… Ileana was not entirely sure what it meant to him, but there was a new closeness between them that hadn't been there before. After that night, the thought of spending a few days more alone with him, despite the awful weather – Clouds and rain the whole time! – was definitely more appealing than returning to the castle to work away in a dingy room. Instead, the Count showed her the city of Budapest, and acted as a tour guide in their adventures among the ancient architecture and little markets.

Although she had asked him not to, the man spoiled her unnecessarily. From the pairs of new dresses that she had acquired to the rather expensive dinners, Ileana had never felt so privileged in her lifetime. He never fretted over the cost, and ignored her when she told him that she really had nowhere to wear any of the new garments, as exquisite as they were. He would just hush her, put another fine piece of material into her hands, and ask her to try something else on. She wasn't particularly sure if this was what royalty did with their time, but it was a lifestyle she would have certainly enjoyed partaking in from time to time. Naturally, her intelligent side would become so terribly bored if all she ever did was shop, and even though she did dread him leaving while she returned to work with her uncle, a small part of her was excited to get back to work on the Creature. They had come such a long way before she left, and although she knew her uncle probably hadn't taken much of a break while she was gone, she hoped that he hadn't done too much without her. Igor may have been his assistant, but Ileana was something much more than that; she was his partner.

Two days away had turned into four, and in that timeframe, she realized that she missed Victor. He was the father figure that she lacked for such a long time, and although he drove her absolutely mad sometimes, she wasn't sure what she would do without him. So, as she half concentrated on the emerging castle's form, and half focused on the way the Count's thumb casually stroked the top of her hand, she couldn't help but feel a little blurb of excitement in her stomach at the thought of seeing her beloved uncle again. Aside from planned summer vacations to see her English relatives, she had not been away from him for this long in quite some time.

"Are you planning on staying with us?" Ileana asked as the castle grew larger upon their approach.

"Would you like me to?" he inquired as he nuzzled at her neck. She blushed a dull pink, and kept her face toward the window to keep him from seeing it. As much as she tried, the Count still had this undeniable talent for making the blood rush to her face in a few milliseconds. Very embarrassing, and difficult to manage. However, in response to his question, she tried to give a nonchalant shrug, her expression neutral.

"I suppose it would be nice for my uncle to see you are supportive of his work," she managed to get out, a smile on her lips as she did so. He grinned, and gave her a quick kiss on the neck before retreating back to his previous position, dignified as ever.

"Well, I should always show my support for your dear uncle and our work," Dracula stated, his face much more deadpan than Ileana's had been. "So, perhaps I shall stay for a few days, just so he knows exactly how I feel."

"He'd like that very much."

"Good."

She met his eyes, and although she was sure the blush would be permanent now, Ileana somehow managed to hold his gaze. Unfortunately, the sound of the castle's rusty gates opening ahead of them broke the somewhat romantic look that had been shared between the pair, and Ileana was forced to look away first. When they pulled into the vacant, dreary, courtyard, she peered up the best she could. There were various candles scattered in the windows of the laboratory, and she knew that her uncle was in there, working his heart out. Of course he hadn't taken time off. He was probably worse off now than before she had left him. She shouldn't have gone… She should have watched him…

"Stop fretting," Dracula said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. "I'm sure he is no worse than usual."

"Hmm."

When the carriage came to a complete stop, the Count rose to his feet first, and Ileana followed him quickly. She took his helpful hand in exiting the contraption, but had no intention to watch Dracula's servant unload their luggage. Her hasty footsteps echoed in the courtyard, and soon in the empty entrance hall of the castle. The Count was behind her by a few feet, silent, but present all the same.

"Uncle?" she called, descending the few little stairs to the floor with the entrance to their laboratory on it, "Are you in here?"

As she reached out to open the door to their lab, it flew open. Ileana shrieked in surprise and stumbled back into the Count, who caught her much more gracefully than she had fallen. A rather haggard looking Victor stood in the doorway, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. He looked like a complete disaster. His skin was nearly as white, if not whiter, than the Count's, and he clearly hadn't changed his clothes in a few days. Greasy was the only way she could describe his hair in its current state, though it appeared much greasier than she had remembered it being. Had he not bothered with personal hygiene while she was away?

"Victor…" the Count managed after a moment of rather strained silence. "You look…"

"Horrible!" Ileana managed finally, grasping the front of his white coat and pulling him out so she could see him better in the torch light. "Have you not slept since I left?"

"I had… I had horrible dreams when I did sleep," he managed, shaking his head as he fussed away her hands, "So I decided it would be best to work. And I worked. I worked, Ileana, so very hard."

"It's been four days," she snapped, her eyes narrowing at him, "Haven't you slept at all?"

"I've managed to brew some concoctions to keep me awake," he admitted with a shrug, his eyes bloodshot as they darted between Dracula and Ileana, "though I suspect I might have dozed off for an hour here and there."

"That's a lie!" Ileana groaned, knowing him well enough now to sense his lies, "Without sleep, you'll go mad, Uncle!"

"No-"

"You know it's being studied," she snapped, cutting him off sharply. "Those analysts have said you can develop mania with it-"

"And in mania comes _genius_!" he bellowed suddenly, making her flinch, "I've finished it! Our Creature is ready to breathe the free air!"

Ileana stiffened, and for a very long moment, a silence settled over the trio. Aside from her uncle's heavy breathing, and her own racing heart, she felt as though the entire world had gone quiet. The Count was the first to break it, and while he said nothing, she was quite sure he would thoroughly pleased with the news. He stepped around the pair and disappeared into the lab, leaving her alone with her uncle.

"You can't be finished," she managed to get out. "We had so much to do when I left…"

"I worked so very hard, Gosling," her uncle explained, his voice cracking, "because we must abandon this place as soon as we can."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I cannot be certain if my dreams were truly dreams, or if they were hallucinations," he began as he grasped her arm and led her down the corridor, slightly away from the entrance to the lab, "but dark tidings are coming to this castle… I fear we cannot fully trust the Count anymore. We must take our Creature, and be gone."

"I don't understand… Where has this come from? The Count has been nothing but our friend-"

"Evil is in this land, Ileana," he whispered, "and I cannot, in good conscience, let you stay here any longer."

"But-"

He hushed her with a finger to his lips, and a moment later, the Count stepped out the lab, a grin on his face broader than she had ever seen before.

"He looks magnificent, Victor," Dracula exclaimed, clapping her uncle on the shoulder when he was close enough. He then extended his hand to her, "Come, you really must see it, Ileana."

Her uncle said nothing. He merely stepped aside to give her room to pass. Although she wanted to know more of what he had seen, she knew that now was not the time to press the issue. He was still clearly in the mindset to impress the Count with his work, and would hardly start accusing him of anything outright. No, she was quite sure Dracula frightened her uncle, and if she wanted to know the truth, she would need to speak with him in private. So, she took the Count's hand, which was as cold as ever, and let him lead her away.

Once inside, he released her, and strode across the large laboratory, which looked as though a horrible windstorm had thrown everything about. Ileana took only a few moments to take in the state of the place, and soon joined the Count at the operating table. She inhaled sharply; the Creature's eyes were open. Somehow, her uncle had found a pair of eyes to sit in the sockets. Although she wasn't sure, but she had a sinking suspicion that he had found a way to make them work, too.

"He is a marvel," the Count muttered.

"We haven't brought him to life, or anything," Ileana remarked in return, looking up quickly to meet his gaze. "Wasn't that the point?"

She did not want to doubt her uncle's work, but in a manic fit of energy, she knew something wasn't completely right with this. What if nothing worked? What if the Creature simply remained on the table as it was once electricity was added… The Count would be disappointed, months of work would have been for nothing, and all that extra stress would destroy her uncle. She wouldn't allow it.

Dracula smirked, and then leaned down to kiss her temple.

"A storm is predicted for tomorrow night," he murmured against her skin, making her shiver, "and I think that with your uncle's brilliance, we will create new life in this very room. What was once nothing will be something, thanks to your uncle's science, and the lightning that Mother Nature will provide us. Your uncle will be renowned in the scientific world…"

"You mustn't say things like that," Ileana insisted, "or he'll get his hopes up… He's been laughed out of the scientific community once already."

"Not this time," the Count replied as he stared down at the Creature. "I have a feeling he will be a complete success… and tomorrow night, I will prove it to you."


	12. Broken

**DIALOGUE IN ITALICS. NOT MINE. **

Ileana seldom went on the roof of the castle. Although her room was basically on the top floor of the tower tier, there was another small staircase that gave her access to the main roof platform. However, she had to spend most of the day hooking up wires, and ensuring the cables were all connected properly to their allocated socket down in the laboratory. It was all a bit confusing at first, and she had to have her uncle do a demonstration, and still relied on Igor to make sure everything was exactly perfect.

Things needed to be perfect. Although she had forced her uncle to get some sleep the night before, he must have been awake since the wee hours of the morning working on everything. He had gone through all the joints, bone connections, sutures… anything and everything that could rip or tear when pulsed with electricity was checked. Dracula had been in and out over the course of the day, but she saw him only for a few moments here and there. The weather was on and off since Ileana woke up. For a few hours in the morning, it poured, and her uncle worried it would be too dangerous for her to work on the roof. However, the rain eased off in the afternoon, and Ileana was able to get her tasks finished before the evening. The lightning hadn't started in yet, but the Count made a prediction that the true storm was still ahead of them. Somehow, he always had a good eye for the weather, and she had come to trust him on these sorts of things.

The entire group had stopped for a brief dinner after what would have been sunset. Dracula ate very little, but it was more than she had ever seen him eat before. Usually, he ate before he arrived at the castle, so Ileana felt a little pang of happiness when he had a small bowl of the soup she concocted out of beef and vegetable broth. Her uncle seemed extremely uneasy around the Count that day. She hadn't asked him if he had anymore nightmares the night before, but the way he fidgeted around Dracula, and answered the man's questions in short, clipped responses made her suspicious. Igor was the same as always, though she could tell he shared the Count's excitement about bringing the Creature to life tonight. After all, they had all been working on this for nearly a year at this point, and while Ileana kept herself collected, her intellectual side was so excited to see if all her uncle's science would actually work.

She had faith, of course, but as a scientist, one was always aware that something could go wrong. Something could falter, not go according to plan, whatever… In her few minutes alone with Dracula, she made the effort during the day to tell him not to get his hopes up, or put too much pressure on her husband, because nothing about this was an exact science, no pun intended. He usually assured her that he had no expectations, but she could tell he had extremely high hopes for the night's experiment.

Currently, Ileana had found a spot on the roof for a moment of silence. She had just done a final check on the cables, even though she had done them a thousand times already, but one could never be too sure. The sun would have set some time ago, and although it was faint, she was sure she heard the distant sound of a rumble. Her eyes followed the direction of the noise, and she arched an eyebrow as lightning erupted in the nearby mountains. Right again, Count. He had predicted it to be right over the village, and with some luck, the electricity would strike the rods, and the experiment could start. It was spitting lightly outside, but nothing enough to drive her back inside just yet. The woman had wanted a moment to herself, one that she spent gazing at the torch lights from the village at the bottom of the hill. It was difficult to see sometimes, since the forest skewed her vision, but the night was surprisingly clear. The torches would flicker for a moment, but as it got darker, they were put out by the village occupants.

"Ileana?"

Dracula's voice disturbed her few moments of peace, but she accepted the intrusion happily. When she turned away from the edge of the castle wall, she caught him standing in the doorway, hands resting on the frame. She smiled happily, one that he returned, and then leaned back against the stone wall of the castle as he approached, hands clasped neatly in front of her.

"I'm surprised you are not down in the laboratory," he chuckled, shooting a look up toward the sky. "The storm is thick in the air."

"I spotted lightning in the mountains," she agreed as he got closer, her stomach bubbling at his presence, as it always did.

"All the more reason to be inside… Can't have you mistaken for the rods, can we?"

"I suspect that might cause an issue," Ileana giggled as he swooped down and kissed her neck. This was what she liked about their… well, relationship. She could spend the whole day around him, working independently and communicating with him around her uncle and Igor, but when they had a moment alone, everything was different. He was affectionate, and she decided that she really liked this kissing business. Naturally, she was a respectable girl, and wouldn't do anything more until the time felt right, but she was sure that the Count had a few things he could teach her, based on the way he kissed. And as always, she was excited to be the eager student.

"I hardly think you would conduct electricity very well," he added cheekily, earning him a sharp poke in the chest and a sly smirk from Ileana. He chuckled, and then kissed her again, this time on the lips. She inhaled sharply, and brought her hands up to cup his face. Her body melded to his with ease, and she eager accepted his somewhat aggressive kiss. Perhaps he had missed her, or it was the excitement of the night's events that was getting to him, but he had never really been this forward with her. She felt her back press against the wall, and she moaned against him as a bit of rock dug into her. He either ignored it, or took it as a sign to continue, and managed to hoist her up, despite her dress, and wrap her legs around his waist.

At that moment, she had to use her hands to push his face away from hers to break the kiss, her breathing uneven once she did so. When her eyes met his, there was something different about them. Something… colder. It was as though she had never properly looked into his eyes, even though she had done so many times before, but something wasn't right. It took her back momentarily, and she flinched when he threaded his hand into her hair, face still very close to hers.

"I have so many plans for you once tonight is a success," he whispered, his thumb casually stroking her cheek as he spoke. "I am excited to share them with you."

She blinked in surprise, and then cleared her throat. It was the first time in a long time that she actually felt uncomfortable around him, "Plans? I don't understand… What plans?"

"All in good time, my dear," he cooed before giving her another quick kiss. "We must focus all our energy on tonight… Nothing can go wrong."

Ileana squirmed against him, which caused him to let her down. She had hoped he would take her sudden change in demeanour as a signal to step back, but he seemed oblivious to it, so she was forced to step around him and away. There was still that feeling in her gut; something was off. He had been fine for the entire day up until now, and she couldn't tell if it was a sign of his anxiety for the night, or if there was something he wasn't telling her.

"What's the matter?" he inquired curiously, his head cocked to the side as his eyes followed her movements. "You seem on edge."

"I… I…" she stammered as she frowned at him, and then shook her head, "I think I'm a little anxious about tonight. I don't quite feel myself."

"Quite the contrast, then," Dracula crooned, "I have never felt more at ease than I am now…"

"Oh."

Ileana turned away from him as he walked over to her, and she smoothed her hands down the front of her pale blue dress. It was a work dress, something that she had worn a hundred times at least while she had been here, and suddenly it seemed so very long ago that she had packed it up from her country home in the south of Romania with her uncle. Things were so different now…

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her slim frame, and his hands ran down the length of her arms to rest on her wrists. She smiled slightly when he rested his forehead against the side of her head, his breathing steady on her neck.

"You will have to forgive me, my dear," he murmured in her ear, "but it must be done…"

Ileana frowned, "What-"

Before she could finish, his hands tightened around her wrists and yanked them sharply behind her back. It all happened so quickly and all of a sudden she felt something like a cord being tied around her wrists, securing them behind her. Too stunned to say anything, she merely ripped herself away from him, and turned back, her eyes wide with shock.

"Now, Ileana-"

"What are you doing?" she demanded shrilly, backing away from him as he took a few steps closer, "Untie me!"

"It is necessary, I'm afraid," he sighed as he reached out to grab her. She stumbled back the best she could, but ended up tripping over a cord and falling to the ground without her arms to balance herself. As best she could, Ileana pushed herself back across the roof with her feet, but she only got so far before the Count was on her. His hands clasped her legs as he crouched down, and he dragged her easily back over to him. Ileana opened her mouth to scream, but he had already placed a hand over top of it, looking somewhat bored with the whole situation.

However, she continued to scream into his hand, hoping that the scuffle might bring some attention from someone. Unfortunately, a loud crack of thunder ruined her attempts, and she was reduced to a whimper as he leaned forward and placed his nose against her neck, and then took a deep breath in.

"Fear is such a delicious thing," Dracula stated as he licked the spot over her pulse, making her squirm against his hold, "and I'm sure, in time, you'll come to appreciate it as much as I do."

He removed his hand from her face momentarily, and then reached into the pocket of his riding coat. Ileana took the opportunity, and shrieked to high Heaven for her uncle, or someone, to help her. Only God knows what he had in store for her, but the man she had grown so incredibly close to over the past several months was not the man before her. No, her intuition had been correct, and something must have gone terribly wrong, or they wouldn't have been here.

Dracula removed a lengthy piece of fabric from his pocket, and took advantage of her open mouth to wrap it around her face, securing it tightly in the back. Though she struggled valiantly, it seemed to have no effect on him, and he handled her as though dealing with a rag doll. Although she wished they hadn't, a pair of tears rolled down either side of her face, and Dracula gave her a perplexed look, and then smiled.

"Come now, my darling," he cooed, babying her as he dragged her to her feet. "You mustn't be so upset… This is only temporary."

With a kiss on the forehead, he began to pull her toward the doorway. A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the side of the castle, and she let out another terrified yelp beneath her gag. At the bottom of the staircase, Igor was waiting for them, and Ileana stumbled a little once again as Dracula handed her over to him.

"The storm has started," Dracula informed the disfigured man. "It will begin now… Do not bring her in until the opportune moment."

"Of course, Master," Igor replied. The Count gave her one last look, and then vanished into the darkness of the hallway. Her breathing increased into a panic, and Igor started to pull her down the stairs, careful that she wouldn't trip. It certainly wasn't out of care for her feelings; she was sure he didn't want to have to pick her up.

"I am sorry for your uncle," Igor grunted as they marched down a hallway. "He is a very kind man."

She squealed against her gag and struggled violently to get away from him. A quick kick in the leg shocked him enough to let go of her momentarily, and she made a break for it down the hallway. He managed to catch up with her eventually, and if she had just pushed herself harder, she was sure she could have lost him. However, he snatched her arm and thrust her painfully against the wall. Her forehead hurt quite terribly after, and she was sure there was a new gash from traumatized skin.

There was shouting from the laboratory, which was only just around the corner, and she faintly heard her uncle shout something about the Creature being alive. Both she and Igor stood still momentarily, stunned that this had actually worked. Well, according to the shouting anyway. She tried to make another break for it, but Igor held her much more securely this time.

"He's going to change the world, you know?" Igor laughed dimly, "The Count will make everything different with our Creation."

There were suddenly more raised voices from the lab, coupled with shouting from the nearby courtyard. Igor seemed a bit thrown off by the extra sound, and he hauled her closer to the window on the other side of the hall. Ileana's eyes widened; there was an entire mob in their courtyard. Pitch forks, torches, axes, men and women alike had just broken through the creaky wooden gate to the inner section of the castle. Igor released her momentarily to bolt an extra lock over the main door, and then dragged her down the corridor toward the lab.

They entered through the top landing, behind much of the equipment. What she saw made her sick. Electricity was flying everywhere through the equipment and cables. The Creature was on the table, groaning noisily over the sounds of the medical equipment, and she could see his hands moving beneath his bonds. It… It had worked.

"_Igor!"_ her uncle pleaded, which caught her attention, "_Igor, help me!_"

He was being backed up by the Count toward the large fireplace that was used to heat the room, a look of sheer terror on his face.

"_You have been so kind to me, Doctor, caring… thoughtful, but he pays me_," Igor shot back, pulling Ileana into view. Her uncle's eyes widened, and she tried to call out to him beneath the gag, just to give him some reassurance in her voice, but she was sure he couldn't hear her.

"Leave her be!" he shouted, looking back and forth hastily between Dracula and Igor, "She's done nothing to deserve this!"

"I thought you might be more willing to give me our Creature if you had some… persuasion," the Count insisted, his tone expressionless. "Is it working?"

Ileana sobbed. She knew nothing good could come of this, and there was literally no way she could help her uncle now. So she stood there, helpless, as Dracula moved in on the one man in her life who had never let her down. Victor stumbled into the wall behind him, and she heard the clink of the hanging sword. Her uncle reached back and dislodged it from its hilt, and then held it up between himself and the Count. There was no way her uncle would ever win if it came to physical blows, with or without a weapon, against Dracula, but it warmed her heart momentarily to see him try.

"_Stay back!_" Victor warned, the sword gleaming as blue sparks of electricity danced around the room.

She heard the Count laugh, and then state, "_You can't kill me, Victor…_"

Igor, Victor and Ileana watched in a shared horror as the Count actually impaled himself on the blade, and then continued to walk toward her uncle. This was… impossible. That's it! This was all a dream! Everything would be fine. It was all a nightmare because she was worried about how the Creature would turn up. However, when she stomped on her foot to do a little reality testing, she was stunned to feel a sharp pain from her shoe. This was real. He should be dead.

"_I'm already dead_," he stated dangerously. She felt Igor's grip falter on her arm, and when she looked back at him, he too seemed completely stunned at the turn of events. For a split second, she hated him just a little less.

Dracula grabbed the collar of her uncle's work jacket, and then flung him around. He then proceeded to do the impossible; his face actually seemed to extend, and a set of extraordinarily sharp teeth protruded forward. Ileana felt the colour drain from her face, and although she felt close to fainting, she somehow managed to stay standing. Dracula gave something of a growl, and then sunk his teeth into her uncle's neck. At this point, Igor had released her, and left her alone on the landing. In one last courageous effort, she watched her uncle withdraw the blade from Dracula, and attempt to swing it downward. But as she saw the blood begin to pool around his feet, she knew it was over, and the sword fell to the ground noisily.

The Creature screamed from its restraints in time with Ileana's own horrified screech. With all the movement her mouth had been doing, she somehow managed to get the material gag loose enough that she could push it out with her tongue, and then tuck it under her chin.

"Uncle!" she screamed above the din of the electricity, her voice cracking in anguish. It was the most awful thing she had ever seen in her life, and as she tried to navigate her way down the spiral staircase, her logical mind tried to find a way that would explain this situation. How could it not be real? Something had to be different… He had to be alive.

When she neared the bottom of the staircase, however, her foot landed in an awkward angle, and she ended up falling. With skinned elbows and an extremely sore shoulder from the brunt of the fall, she was quite sure on top of all that she had at least sprained her ankle. She had no time to think about the pain. Dracula paid her no attention as she pushed herself pathetically across the floor to her uncle's fallen body. The Count made his way over to the operation table, but Ileana could have cared less about the Creature at that very moment. When she finally reached her uncle, she let out another tormented cry and sobbed into his chest. His eyes had glazed over, and nothing rose or fell; he was gone.

Suddenly, there was a monstrous shout from the back of the room, and when she looked up, she saw the Creature was upright, and had just flung a piece of exceptionally heavy equipment at Dracula. It slammed into him, and then crushed him into the fireplace. In a moment, the Creature had hobbled over to her uncle's fallen body.

"F-Father," he managed, staring down at Victor with the same horror that Ileana felt on the inside.

"Please take him," Ileana wept. "Take him away from here!"

The Creature needn't be told twice. He hoisted her uncle up off the ground, and after a sorrowful look between them was shared, the beast was off, moving as quickly as he could to the back exit of the castle. Where they would go, she was unsure. However, the mob in the courtyard was here for someone, and she wasn't about to let them desecrate her uncle's body any more than it already had been. She prayed Velkan might be in with the mob, and he would spare her their fury. Her ankle felt too swollen to move too far very fast, but she somehow managed to push herself toward the wall, and then propel herself up into a standing position. Putting pressure on it of any degree was painful, but she managed to push through it to limp across to one of the tables with tools on it.

Awkwardly, Ileana managed to grasp a scalpel, her mind and body numb to what she had just witnessed, and began slicing at the ropes behind her back. She barely felt the metal cut at her hands and wrists, but she could almost feel the warm blood start to drip off her fingers. Finally, she managed to cut through them enough to pull her hands apart. She dropped the scalpel unceremoniously, and then leaned against the table, drained.

However, her moment of rest was spoiled as the old piece of machinery flew out of the fireplace. She ducked under the table, terrified over what was about to come out of the flames. It was as though a skeleton had emerged, but as she watched carefully from her hiding spot, she gasped as the hair and skin grew back into the Count. He was completely unharmed, though he looked absolutely livid. Ileana shut her eyes and pushed herself under the table as much as she could. Thankfully, the man hardly seemed to have any interest in her at the given moment, and she had to keep a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out when she heard another inhuman growl, the beating of wings, and then the sound of the glass dome shattering above her.

When she was sure he was gone, she emerged from her hiding spot, and staggered into uncle's old office. Although her brain had not properly formulated a plan just yet, it seemed as though her body was doing most of the work for her. Her bloody hands fumbled around his office until she found all his sketches and journal entries that he had kept on the creation of their Creature. For some reason, it seemed important to her to take. From there, she was not completely sure where her weak feet were taking her, but she soon found herself outside. In the distance, the old windmill on the castle grounds was burning, and it seemed as though the mob had moved to there. However, they were now on the retreat back to the forest, shrieking as they went. Nothing, at this point, would seem odd to her anymore. Instead, she walked listlessly toward the moat that surrounded the castle.

Ileana stopped at the edge, and stared down at the black waters below. It was a good hundred foot drop, possibly more, and it would kill a normal person on impact. That was what she wanted, though she had yet to acknowledge it. After what she had seen, how could she be in a world with so much evil and terror? How could she continue to go on with a man who she felt as though she could actually love, when everything about him had been a complete lie? No, death was a viable option. Although she was hardly spiritual in any sense of the word, she felt as though by doing this, she would see her uncle again in a much more peaceful place. Heaven? Who knows?

She held two journals under her arms, two that she knew were for personal usage, and then began to shred the sketches of the Creature, letting them fall into the waters without much thought. She then threw a few notebooks in, satisfied in the splash, and then leaned over once more. No good could come from this world anymore. Her bloodied hands, now numb from blood loss, clutched her uncle's private journals close to her heart, and without hesitation, stepped off the grassy ledge.

Unfortunately, she must have only gone a foot or so down before a pair of hands grasped her arms painfully, and then hauled her back onto solid ground.

"No!" she shrieked, trying valiantly to get away from her captor, "No, let me go!"

Ileana was then thrown to the ground, and when she looked up at Dracula, who looked as livid now as he had back in the castle, she tried to turn over and crawl away. He was much too quick for that, as usual, and was already dragging the journals from her blood-stained hands. When he managed to get them from her grasp, Ileana rolled over, sobbing into the cold grass beneath her.

"The villagers have destroyed the Creation," Dracula informed her coldly, throwing the books onto the ground beside her when he no doubt discovered they were filled with nothing by Victor's musings. "We will build another one."

Ileana wept harder into the Earth and shook her head; she would never do anything for him again. Not now, not ever.

"Get up," he snapped as he grasped her by the upper-arm and hauled her roughly to her feet. "Did you happen to take all his journals with you on your attempt at death?"

Anger swept over her, and before she could step herself, she lashed out at his face. This time, he was too slow to avoid it, or he hadn't been expecting it, and she managed to actually hit him. Streaks of blood were now across his cheek, but she wasn't sure if she had actually scratched him, or if it was her own blood from the gashes on her hands and wrists.

"What have you done to yourself?" he sneered, holding up her wrists for inspection.

She swayed side to side a little, and started to feel woozy from the blood loss, "I threw them all in the river… all the sketches, his notebooks. You'll never have your Creature again."

His eyes flashed dangerously, and he flung her to the ground again, making her cry out in pain.

"You will make it again!" he shouted, his voice echoing now in the oddly silent air. "And you will do it from memory alone if you have to!"

"I'll never do a thing for you again!" she screamed in return, her chest heaving as sobs threatened to erupt once more. "You're a monster!"

"But I've always been one," Dracula scoffed, "and yet you love me still-"

"I hate you!" Ileana cried as she crawled away from him in the grass, "I hate you more than anything!"

The woman pushed herself weakly to her feet in a last effort to make a run for the river, but she rose too quickly. Before she could do anything, her body slipped into unconsciousness, and she collapsed back down to the ground.


	13. Abuse

_There's a fire starting in my heart,  
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark_

_Rolling in the Deep, Adele _

It was silent when Ileana opened her eyes again. Everything in her body felt heavy, but she was no longer lying in the grass she had collapsed in. From the ceiling details above her, she surmised that she had been moved back to her bedroom in the castle's tower, and much to her dismay, she was very much alive. Her eyelids were difficult to keep open, and she felt as though she had slept for too long. The room was lit by a few candles, no lighter or darker than usual, and a quick glance out the window beside her bed made her realize it was night once more. Dreaded, dreaded night.

Although it was painful, she managed to sit herself up without too much trouble. She was no longer in her blue working dress; no, someone had changed her into her usual sleeping garments. The woman could only assume it was Dracula, because of the thought of Igor seeing her naked form made her want to retch. Her hands were bandaged up tightly, and it looked as though she was wearing a white pair of mittens. The woman frowned momentarily, and she realized that whoever had done it – presumably the Count – had thought well ahead of her, and done the dressing so she couldn't rip of them off and potentially reopen the wounds. That had been her plan, after all, should the fall not kill before. With all the sizable marks left by her shoddy work with the scalpel, she was sure she could have bled out eventually. She could also feel a wrapping around her ankle, which was tender to move, but not as painful as it had been on that fateful night.

What was most painful, she soon discovered, was the ache in her gut. She hadn't noticed it at first, but the more Ileana shifted around in her seated position on her bed, the more she realized that her stomach was screaming in agony. The woman gave a weak cry and placed her hands on her midsection, doubling over to try and ease the pain. Her brown hair tumbled over her face, and she bit her lip, eyes squeezed tight as she tried to push passed it. Her memory of the night was mostly clear, up until her confrontation with Dracula near the moat, but she was almost certain nothing had happened to her insides that would cause this sort of trauma.

"You're hungry."

His voice broke the silence, as it always did, but this time Ileana felt a mixture of rage and sorrow well inside her at the sound. After pushing bits of hair out her face, she turned back. Dracula was seated in her old chair by the tiny fireplace. There were papers scattered around him, and some books that she could only vaguely make out. He looked the same as always, but as she stared at him through her brown eyes, something about him disgusted her. The darkness in him, the killer… Nothing about him was what she wanted her first love to be, and yet there he sat. Her lip trembled at the sight of him, but she refused to cry in his presence anymore. No, now that Victor was gone, she had to prove to herself that she was stronger than that.

There was a small silver table to her right with a prepared meal atop it. Bread, soup, a cup of water. She wanted to do nothing more than appease the pain in her stomach, but she knew what that would mean if she ate. Ileana would accept his treaty, and take his considerations, as though he was her saviour. No, she simply eased herself out of the bed and placed her feet delicately on the floor, pleading with her food-deprived body to be stronger than it was capable of being.

"I kept you asleep," he sighed as he set down the book he had been reading. "Your body needed some time to heal without you interfering."

As she had suspected. Bastard.

"But no more than two days," Dracula insisted, "or I feel you'll start to wither."

She managed to remain remarkably calm as she eased herself to her feet, clutching at her bedpost for some support. For a moment, Ileana merely stared at the meal that had been prepared for her. Though it was a bit difficult, she picked up the bowl of soup in her bandaged hands and gazed down at it. The warmth radiated up at her; it was fresh. Then, with all the strength she could muster, she hurled the bowl at the Count. It narrowly missed him, and shattered noisily against the wall. Ileana went for the cup of water next, but he was already upon her. The speed of his movements shocked her, and she released the cup with a small gasp. He had her wrists in his grasp, and she struggled angrily against him, her hatred rising steadily.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked as she twisted her body from side to side weakly, her head spinning from the rapid movement. "You're hurting me, let go!"

With that, he released her, and Ileana collapsed back into the softness of her bed. The man leaned down to help her sit up, but she quickly did it herself, and spat, "Don't touch me, demon."

He stared at her for a moment, and then let out a chuckle, "Come now, Ileana, you can hardly use religious mortality on me. You worship the scientific arts, and we both know that."

The woman backed herself up to the other side of her bed, her body pressed against the wall, and she merely glared at him. Beneath the anger was such a monstrous sadness, and she was unsure why he couldn't see it. Could he not fathom that the moment she woke up she would mourn the loss of her uncle, and loathe the beast that murdered him?

Dracula seated himself on the edge of the bed, and then dragged the little metal meal tray closer. There was nothing left on it but the bread, which he picked up and held out to her. Saliva coursed through her mouth just looking at it, but she forced herself into restraint, and merely arched an eyebrow.

"Eat it," he ordered briskly. She shook her head and folded her arms over her chest, the very picture of a petulant child. His eyes narrowed, and he grasped hold of her sprained ankle, which made her wince, "Ileana, stop being difficult and eat."

"Why?"

His eyes narrowed, "Because you'll die of starvation."

"Good, I-"

"It will be a slow, agonizing death," he droned, cutting her off sharply, "one that will take days. You'll give in eventually, and by then you'll be too far gone, and nothing will ease the pain. That was hardly my vision of your death."

"I'm so terribly sorry to disappoint you then," Ileana sneered, her stomach grumbling angrily at her stubbornness. "Shall I be dying the same way as my uncle then? Did you eat him afterward, or anything to that nature?"

Her voice cracked while she tried to taunt him. However, it seemed to hurt her more than it had any effect on him.

"The flesh of a human hardly interests me," he remarked plainly, which made her stomach knot, "in a consumption sense, anyway. I prefer to use it for other reasons."

Ileana felt him massage her ankle gently, and she slapped his hand away without a word. Dracula sighed noisily, and then thrust the bread at her again, holding it close to her face, "Eat it now, and contemplate other ways of suicide when you can think clearly."

Perhaps he had a point. She was a scientist after all, with extensive knowledge of the human body. Surely, if she was thinking clearly, she could come up with much better ways to end everything than the torturous method of starvation. So, she gingerly accepted the bread roll, and took a small bite, her eyes still on him. He seemed smug that he had persuaded her to eat, and she hated giving him the satisfaction. They sat in silence for some time, Ileana eating her bread and Dracula watching her do it. Perhaps he thought she would try to choke herself.

"What are you?" she asked finally. He couldn't have been human. No human, who she was aware of, had the capabilities of doing what he did to himself, and to her uncle.

"I am surprised you never heard the stories," he murmured, more to himself than to her, "but it was necessary to keep myself from you both. It's so seldom I meet a human completely unaware of my background in Romania."

She stared at him blankly, and then took another bite of her bread. The pain didn't go away, but she was starting to feel marginally better.

"I am a vampire," Dracula said plainly.

"Vampires are myth and folklore," she snapped before she could stop herself. "I don't…"

"You know it's true," he argued, noting her hesitation. "You know what you saw."

"I do," she whispered, her eyes welling with new tears. "I watched you murder my uncle."

"It was…" he started, his eyes wandering off to the window, "necessary, at the time."

"How could you say that to me?" she cried, throwing her bread at him, which he managed to dodge. "Get out! Just leave me to my misery!"

"Stop being so dramatic, Ileana. It doesn't suit you."

"Yes, well," she stammered as she shook with anger at him, "it appears neither of us are what the other expects them to be. So very unfortunate."

He stood up and straightened out his riding jacket with a roll of his eyes, "Enough of this. Get up. We're going to the kitchen."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Ileana stated as she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them close. "You can rot in Hell."

The man grinned, leaned forward, hooked his hands beneath her folded knees, and then dragged her toward the edge of the bed with ease. She swung at him with her bandaged hands, but he avoided them easily. Both hands cupped her face, and he was suddenly very, very close, too close for her liking.

"You think I'm not in Hell already?" he uttered dangerously, and then gave her a little jostle. "Wake up, Ileana! I'm dead! Surely _God_ would not have given me this!"

A sob slipped from her lips before she could keep it in, and a pair of tears rolled down her cheeks and over his fingers. Dracula released her and stepped back, a look mixed between irritation and unhappiness on his face.

"You can either get up and I will help you down to the kitchens, or I will carry you down," he offered, an eyebrow raised at her. "I will let you decide."

"How thoughtful," she managed weakly. "Why can't I stay here?"

"Because I can't trust you not to throw yourself out the window the moment I leave," he replied, nodding over to the floor length window. It was a very small balcony on the side of the tower, and she realized now how easily it would be to jump from it. That would certainly kill her. She looked between him and the window, and then launched herself at it, ignoring the sudden blinding pain in her stomach, head, and foot. However, before she could get more than a few feet away from the bed, the Count had slipped his arm around her midsection and yanked her back, knocking the wind from her lungs. As she tried to recover, he hoisted her up onto his shoulder.

"I'm pleased I didn't need to make the decision for you," Dracula snapped as he marched toward the door, ignoring the way Ileana screamed abuses and wept all the way down the tower to the kitchen.


	14. Brain

**LOVE MY READERS FOR ALL THEIR KIND SUPPORT AND REVIEWS FOR THIS SERIES! MAKES ME INSPIRED TO KEEP GOING. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE IT!**

_Go ahead and sell me out and I'll leave your sheet bare_

_See how I'll leave with every piece of you,_

_Don't underestimate the things that I will do. _

_Adele - Rolling in the Deep_

It had taken Ileana nearly a week to shake the Count's watchful eye. He was always there. Always watching… Perhaps it was because, after a week had passed, the girl had stopped trying to kill herself. At that point, she realized it would be hopeless; Dracula always stopped her. For some reason, he had little faith that Igor could rebuild the experiment from scratch. Ileana was the only one who had been there from the very beginning, he surmised, and therefore she would be the only one to understand the true nature of her uncle's vision for the Creature. While that was definitely true, Ileana knew, just as Igor did, that the vile hunchbacked man was just as capable as she was to rebuild the monster. Dracula was a liar. She knew, at the very pits of her soul, that she would never trust a single thing he said to her in earnest ever again.

It tore at her, you see. Ileana had wanted to love him so very much before all this, and she wasn't entirely sure if she had, but she was very close to it. And then that dreadful night happened. From that point on, nothing would ever be the same again. All the Count did was take from her. He sapped her emotional energy. He took her uncle. He took her freedom. The man – vampire – seemed to want to give back something. No matter how much she insulted him, shouted at him, or tried to hit him, he never once did more than chide her sarcastically. It was as if he was waiting for her to grow out of some silly phase, and soon she would be better; like he was waiting for her to grow up. How he could even fathom such preposterous things baffled the Englishwoman.

At this point, however, she was numb. Her eyes were dry. Her voice was hoarse. Her face were empty. She couldn't give anything more to him because she had nothing left in her to give. Instead, she moved through the castle listlessly. Ileana stared at the pages of books without really reading anything, and would turn pages arbitrarily. Meals were drab affairs, where she would grab a piece of bread and some form of vegetable or meat, depending on what was in storage, and then eat it without preparing anything to go with it. Igor was left to fend for himself in that respect, but somehow he managed. Not that she cared; the man had been dead to her for a very, very long time.

Dracula wanted her to get better, she knew. Some days he carried on a conversation with himself, as though she replied happily. Other times he brought her gifts, occasionally cooked her a meal… He tried so hard. She was not sure what to call him… Yes, he was supernatural, but what kind of person brutally murdered a man, and then carried on as though nothing had happened? After the Count gave her some peace, and her suicide attempts had stopped (though the ideation remained), Ileana had done some readings on vampires and the folklore from the Count's personal library. He had finally given her permission to enter his chambers. They contained a coffin – for sleeping – and some other amenities, though it was much smaller than she had predicted. Along the southern walls were shelves lined with books, and the only books Ileana actually paid attention to were the ones with information about vampires.

Undead. Demonic. Shape-shifting. Blood-lusting. Immortal. Now that she knew his true self, she was sure she would never see him the same again. Not only was he a killer, he enjoyed it. Vampires enjoyed the hunt. For all she knew, Dracula could have been saving her for his next meal once the Creature was complete. He had reassured her several times that he had no interest in making her his next dinner, but she refused to believe him outright. He was a liar, after all.

A month had passed since the death of her uncle. Three very long weeks of numbness. Would it ever go away? How did people deal with death on a regular basis? Ileana felt lost without him. Some nights she wound up in his study and would sit in his chair until the next morning, not sleeping or thinking, just sitting. It was all terribly unhealthy for her, mentally and physically. Her body, though never too curvy or too slim in the past, was wasting away to nothing. Caloric intake was limited, and she barely slept more than three or four hours at night. Perhaps this might kill her without her trying too hard? Who knew.

"Ileana."

The voice made her skin prickle, but she felt nothing. Her body rejected him, but her mind was oblivious at this point. He found her in her uncle's study, simply sitting at his desk. All the papers had been removed; Dracula had been pouring through them over the past few days, hoping desperately that there had been something left that was usable. So far, the remains yielded nothing of value.

Ileana's eyes raised slowly to him. There were dark purple rings beneath them, she knew. She must have looked awful. However, her appearance was hardly a concern anymore.

"Come," he beckoned her with a wave of his hand, "we start again tonight."

She stared blankly, though knowing full well what he meant. For a moment she just sat there, until he took a step into the office and she was on her feet. He wasn't allowed any further. He wasn't allowed to foul up her one room that was left of her uncle. No. No, he wasn't.

"Have you eaten today?" he inquired. She stepped around him and slipped through the doorway with a nod, trying to keep their bodily proximity as distanced as possible. However, he ruined that and grabbed hold of her arm, and then pushed her against the wall. It was gentle for him, but Ileana winced as her weakened body collided with the solid surface. "What did you have?"

Ileana blinked up at him slowly in response, still silent. He gave her a shake, "Ileana!"

"Food," she forced out eventually as she leaned against the wall. "I'm fine."

"Last time we did this, you vomited," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I don't want it to happen again."

"Perhaps I should not handling deceased flesh," she mused stoically, "as it seems to be more of your speciality."

He pursed his lips at her, and then began to pull her down the hallway to the lab. She could already hear some rustling about inside. Igor was there with the body parts he had been sent to retrieve from some nearby graves. It would be the same process as before, sorting the useful pieces from the poor selections, but this time there would be no Victor to rub her back when she felt woozy. No, just a demon and a twisted human to keep her company that evening.

"Some of them are fresh," Igor explained as the pair entered the laboratory, "and some are old. We will have to decide if the decay is too much on the old, I think."

Ileana felt the bile rise to her throat as Igor pulled out the mangled pieces of body parts, casually tossing a forearm down on the operating table. She grasped the side of a nearby table and took a few deep breaths, urging her body to be as neutral as her mind was over all this. Dracula, meanwhile, began examining the body parts callously; just as critical now as he had been when the first batch was brought in over a year ago. While he was no doctor by any means, she had to admit that the man had a very strong working knowledge of the human body, diseases that afflict it, and how everything was connected. Now, he was no Victor Frankenstein, but he knew much more than the regular European noble.

The smell was intolerable, and Ileana had to grab a small rag to hold over her nose. Although she had been working with remains for such a long time at that point, the smell of fresh corpses was something that would never grow on her.

"I have a piece of everything," Igor added, "sometimes doubles. We will see what is best."

"Get your sketchpad, Ileana," Dracula ordered briskly as he examined a hand. "We will need to begin designs quickly if we want to start by the end of this week."

"No," she sighed.

Dracula looked over at her quickly, irritated, and then cocked his head to the side, "Ileana, stop being difficult… I'm in no mood tonight."

"I'm not being difficult," she stated, her voice monotone, "just logical. Why start something we cannot finish?"

Igor cleared his throat awkwardly, and then hurried out of the way when Dracula stepped past him. The vampire arched an eyebrow, and then shook his head, "Victor did everything-"

"Because my uncle was a genius," Ileana noted, "but we are not my uncle."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, my dear," he scoffed. "We have everything that Victor had… but this time we will know what works and what does not. The process should go faster."

"We have… nearly everything," Ileana remarked, somewhat condescendingly.

"What are we missing?"

"You would have noticed that my uncle gave the Creature life," Ileana started, clutching the rag to her body as she sauntered around toward the table of body parts. "He made the heart beat, the blood flow, and the muscles tense… He created all of it."

"Your point?"

She looked back at him, and then blinked, as though he was a little boy, "He devised a brain. A non-human brain made of gears and machinery… How on Earth do you expect Igor or I to come up with something so brilliant? He built it while we were away on our fairy-tale vacation… Don't you remember?"

His eye twitched, and she could hear the bones from the hand that he was holding break as he clenched his hand into a fist. Perhaps it was best not to test his fury, but Ileana couldn't help it.

"So you see," she carried on, her voice only a hint more lively now than it had been, "I see no point in putting all of our resources into something that, once we are ready for it, will be a miserable failure."

He hurled the hand at the wall angrily, and suddenly he was on her, shoving her back into the table. Ileana released a genuine shout in surprise, and her back arched as he bore down on her, a fury in his eyes that she had not seen for some time.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" he demanded, "Why did you let me carry on this far?"

She said nothing. However, the corners of her lips quirked upward momentarily, a gesture he caught, and he suddenly clued in on how much she enjoyed watching him flounder about at the thought of failure. His nostrils flared furiously and before she had the time to suspect it, the back of his hand collided sharply with her cheek, knocking her back into the table.

"You will both find a way to make it!" he shouted, his attention momentarily on Igor. The hunched man was cowering by the window. Ileana stared at him from her position at the table, bent over it as her head throbbed. She wanted to roll over and let the cool metal soothe her, but any sudden movement at the moment would be enough to make her weep. Instead, she remained where she was, waiting for her body's sensations to settle.

"Of course, Master," Igor managed finally, his voice a little shaky. "If Doctor Frankenstein could do it, we can do it too…"

Groaning softly, Ileana managed to push herself off the table and gain a steady footing. From there, she promptly turned away from the men in the lab and departed.

"Where are you going?" Dracula snarled in her ear the second she stepped out the door. "We aren't finished."

"I'm going to put something cold on my face," she snapped in return, her cool veneer breaking momentarily, "because I'd like to be able to open my eye tomorrow morning!"

He stopped, his expression as complicated as ever, and he then reached out to take her hand, "Ileana…"

"Don't," she hissed, flinching back from him as though he burned her, "touch me… Not now, not ever again."

He hesitated, but soon retracted his extended hand. Her lip quivered as she gazed at him, but before long she had turned away and nearly flew down the hallway. Perhaps something in the cellar could keep the swelling down.


	15. Perhaps

_The scars of your love, they leave my breathless _

_I can't help thinking_

_We could have had it all. _

_Adele – Rolling in the deep _

Ileana awoke the next morning with the most awful headache. The entire right side of her face was swollen from Dracula, though the cool compress seemed to have done something the night before. Perhaps it could have been much larger. As she gazed into the mirror, she tenderly felt around her eye, checking for any facial bone fractures or something worse. Everything had reached a state of deep purple and blue bruising, and it was actually startling to see herself. If Dracula had been an average man of average strength, perhaps he would not have left her in the state she was in now. But he was no average man. No, he was a demon with supernatural strength, and she was lucky that he restrained himself enough to keep from lobbing her head off.

The only pleasing aspect about the morning was that the sun shone brightly through her tower's window. The entire room was filled with warmth and light, and while Ileana felt a great deal of pain whenever she blinked or moved her face too much, the sun was a welcome surprise. She threw a black dressing gown over her nightclothes, and then sauntered down the tower's stairs. On the main floor, Igor was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered momentarily if she was going to have a day just to herself. No men to bother her, no vampires to hit her… nothing. For a second or so, she almost smiled. However, her mood soured when she stepped into the kitchen and watched Dracula rise from his seated position at the table. Of course he was here. She frowned at him and marched across to the pantry, intent on having her day while ignoring him at the same time.

Well, for as long as that was possible, anyway.

"How do you feel?"

She paused, a large loaf of white bread in her hand, and then turned back to look at him. There did seem to be genuine care in his expression, but she refused to believe any emotion other than anger and frustration was real when it came to the Count. The woman set the bread down on the counter to her side, and then arched an eyebrow.

"How do I feel?" she repeated. "I assume you can _see_, Count."

"I can-"

"Then I'm sure you can _see_ that there is no chance of me feeling good this morning, don't you think?" Ileana snapped before she turned back to her bread. She stared at the fat loaf for a moment, a surge of anger welling inside of her, and then grabbed one of the knives hanging from the wall to cut a slice.

"I didn't mean-"

"Never mind that you could have broken every bone in my face!" she continued suddenly, the telling off she had been ranting in her head over and over finally coming forth, "But no. No, clearly I'm fine!"

The knife cut through the bread noisily. It was a little stale, but it was still good. The Count had been a little more lax on food ever since her uncle died. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Ileana simply wasn't eating anyway. Whatever the case, he hadn't been getting the fresh food in as quickly as he had done in the past. She missed warm loaves of bread.

She went to slice another piece, but suddenly the Count's hand was on her wrist, as though he wished to calm her from some sort of bread massacre. Ileana dropped the knife, pushed his hand away, and then stepped past him so that he was no longer directly behind her.

"Please," he began, his hands up to signify peace, "I am truly sorry for what I've done. I never meant to hurt you. My temper is… unpredictable."

"I don't care," she stated plainly. "There is nothing you can say to me that will make me forgive you. You think I haven't seen the wives of men who beat them? I saw them all the time growing up, and they would always come up with excuses for their husband's behaviour, when really the fault is with the men and their brute-like fashion! I then watched my uncle, the gentlest soul I've ever seen, so seldom raise his voice, let alone threaten to strike me, and you… You…"

She trailed off, frustrated, and then grabbed the slice of bread from the counter before storming out of the kitchen. He had ruined it. With so little, he had managed to ruin what was going to be a quiet, peaceful day of solitude.

"I know you won't forgive me," Dracula insisted, suddenly beside her, "but I am trying to do my best to show you I know what I've done to you is wrong… Look! Don't you like the sunlight today?"

Ileana paused, the bread between a clenched fist, and then looked back down the hallway. Ah right, the sun. She had nearly forgotten, and then it hit her; his kind couldn't be in sunlight. For only a moment, her intrigue was tickled.

"How are you not melted and whatnot?" she inquired.

"I'm very old, Ileana," he chuckled, and then reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. It was once a typical gesture, but she flinched away quickly and he stopped. Instead, he cleared his throat and carried on, "Direct sunlight would be excruciating, but I can endure it momentarily… I arrived before the sun rose this morning, and am not in direct light right now."

"Fascinating," she sneered. "I don't see how you have anything to do with the weather… So I'll take the sunlight as a gift from some other supernatural being, thank you very much."

He stepped in front of her before she could storm off again, "I do have some sway over the clouds… I knew today you'd want the weather to be better, so I'm doing my best to let the sun shine all day."

Well. No woman anywhere else would ever be able to say that she had a man bring the sun out for her in a literal sense, and for a very brief moment, Ileana felt a little flattered. However, the moment was fleeting, and very soon gone. She sighed, "Just go away."

"No until I can get something of a smile out of you," Dracula insisted.

Damn it! She had hoped he wouldn't have noticed that short few seconds of admiration from before, but apparently nothing slipped past this man. Her jaw clenched irritably, and she once again pulled away when he tried to take her hand. Not deterred by her lack of interest, he instead managed to lightly touch her back as he started walking them down the hallway toward the main entrance.

"I don't want forgiveness," he insisted, which earned him a sceptical look from Ileana. "All I want is to see you at least a percentage happier today than you have been… You deserve happiness, my dear."

"Don't talk to me like that," she said suddenly and stopped walking. He looked down at her, momentarily confused, and Ileana shook her head. "You aren't allowed to talk to me like that anymore. We don't have the connection… It's now inappropriate."

He all but scoffed at her, and then continued to walk them down the hall, "Regardless… I think you could use a project around the castle... Something that has nothing to do with our experiment."

He stopped them at the main door of the castle, and then motioned for her to stay. In a flash he was gone, and she wondered why on Earth she would listen to him. Just as she was about to leave, she heard him return. Nestled in his arms was a rather small animal. When he got closer, she noticed it was a small black dog, probably only a month or two old.

"I thought you might like a companion around the castle who was not Igor or… myself," he explained as he held out the squirming animal to her. The dog whimpered pathetically in his hands, and she dropped the bread and hastily took the pup from him. As soon as he was free of the Count, it quieted down and nestled into her chest when she held it close.

"I don't… I don't know what to say," she managed, the warm body against her more soothing than she had expected.

"I thought you might like the … adventure of figuring out how to train it," Dracula continued, his hands clasped behind his back. She could feel his eyes on her as she readjusted her grip on the puppy, which had begun snuffing at her neck curiously. It tickled, and she had to hold in the urge to grin.

"This doesn't make up for anything you've done," Ileana said quickly, her eyes darting back to the Count, "but I'm not about to throw something this small and helpless back outside to fend for itself…"

Besides, the prospect of training an animal actually did seem appealing to her. She knew that analysts were making strides in behavioural therapy techniques in other parts of Europe, and she had been somewhat interested in putting those to the test. It didn't hurt that the squirming little animal in her arms was absolutely adorable, but she was very good at keeping her expressions neutral in front of the Count, and could easily contain her excitement.

"I figured as much," he chuckled as he sauntered over the door. He opened it, though was careful to remain behind it as the sunlight filtered into the usually darkened hallway. "I thought you might also enjoy an escape from the castle…"

With a frown, she walked to the doorframe and gazed outside. There, in the courtyard, was a horse. He had gotten her a horse. The white mare was tethered to a post in front of a water trough that she had never seen before, and a small pile of hay was to her right.

"I figured you might want to go riding in the trails around the castle," she heard him state from behind the safety of the doorway. "I know you don't like being in the castle all the time, and I feel safer with you on something that could outrun the average wolf is necessary…"

"I…" she trailed off, a little overwhelmed with these gifts. She had been given dozens since the death of her uncle, and each material good she usually threw out her window once the Count had left her. These, however, were not 'things' that she could throw away. The Count had, essentially, found her companions in an attempt to ease her suffering. It would have been nice to have human companionship, even in the form of a British servant, or something, but she knew that even the suggestion of that would be pushing him too far.

"I don't know how to ride," Ileana said finally.

"I can teach you," he offered. "It isn't all that difficult once you know what you're doing."

Rather than flat-out rejecting the offer, she simply ignored it, and then stepped outside to get a better view of her new horse. The puppy seemed just as anxious to see it, and stretched as far as its small body would allow when she got closer to the much larger beast. She was a white mare, and much smaller than the large Romanian horses Ileana had seen pull her carriages in the past. But she was a very lovely horse, with dark brown eyes that blinked at her curiously when she stopped drinking. Ileana set the puppy down at her feet, who didn't venture far. Rather, the little animal leaned toward the horse as much as it could, sniffing at it. Grasping a handful of hay, she held it out to the larger beast, who continued to gaze at her for a moment or two, and then came forward to accept the offering. Ileana grinned, and even let out a very, very small laugh (though it pained her swollen face to do so) when the horse snuffed at her hands for the last few pieces. Afterward, the horse resumed her drinking, and Ileana took the opportunity to run her hands along the muscular frame of the animal. She was lovely.

The woman spent a good ten minutes enthralled with her gifts in the courtyard before realizing that she had been speaking to the Count somewhat normally. The doorway to the castle was still ajar, and she hurried back to it, her new pup at her heels. However, when she stepped inside, she saw that the Count was nowhere to be seen. The space he had occupied behind the door was empty, and she saw no movement in the hallways. Perhaps her day had not been spoiled after all. She bent down and hoisted up the puppy, which eagerly licked at her face she it was close enough.

"He's still a bastard," she cooed at the animal, "and you and I both know this changes nothing… Yes we do!"

She did another quick check of the first floor to make sure she was completely alone, aside from her new animals. Once satisfied, she joined her mare out in the courtyard, eager to spend the day exploring what it felt like to be a new pet owner. For the first time in a long time, she spent more of her time smiling than weeping. Perhaps it was a start.


	16. Liberties

_You played it,  
You played it to the beat._

_Adele – Rolling in the Deep_

Much to Ileana's dismay, her new canine friend ran away within a month of the Count giving him to her. She had named him Doc, and while loveable, he was really too curious for his own good. When he went missing one morning, Ileana did not throw the blame onto Igor or Dracula. No, Doc loved being outside. He was constantly sniffing around doors, moping when inside for too long, and whining when Ileana tried to work. Not that Ileana had been forced to work, or anything. No, ever since their incident, Dracula had rarely brought up creating another creature. He came to visit Ileana daily, and while she was not as horrible as she had been to him, she usually ignored him, or would converse for a timed total of five minutes if necessary. Sometimes he would sit with her and watch her do whatever she was doing – cooking, reading, training Doc – and sometimes he would bring a book, or write in a journal. He wouldn't stay for long, and tended to leave whenever Doc became too much.

Bless the little thing, but the puppy hated Dracula more than she did, it seemed. Whenever the vampire entered the room, the fur on the back of his neck would raise, little teeth bared, and he would snarl and sneer until Ileana told him to be quiet. Not that she minded, really… It just got a bit annoying after a while, and the dog needed to learn when enough was enough. Speaking of training, she was mildly pleased with the Count's gift for the sheer aspect that she got to try psychological training on the dog. She mimicked the experiments of Pavlov (without the tubes in the dog, mind you) and conditioned Doc to drool whenever she rang a bell. Interesting, and applicable, though this new psychology business seemed like such an obscure science that she doubted it would ever get anywhere worthwhile.

Anyway. Doc had escaped about a week ago. She usually checked outside whenever she could, and would stand near the edge of the surrounding forest calling for him, but he never came. The woman hoped that he hadn't fallen into the moat; it would be a horrible death for such a sweet, smart little dog. Thankfully, she still had Mercy. She had named her mare that because the creature was her small mercy to escape from the drudgeries of castle life whenever she felt like it. As Dracula had promised, he taught her how to ride. That was usually the longest they spent together where Ileana would actually speak. It took her a while to get the hang of it, but Mercy was a relatively laid back horse – according to the Count – and seemed fine with her constant mistakes on the first few tries. Dracula was patient, which was appreciated, but Ileana always had to snap at him whenever he touched her hands or her legs. He argued that he was repositioning them properly, but she insisted that he could simply tell her and she would do it.

She did not want him touching her. Ileana was quite sure that she had made that perfectly clear some time ago, but the Count continued to ignore her objections. He was never overly touchy, but she still did not like his hands on her. … Actually, that was a downright lie. If she was being honest with herself, Ileana still liked Dracula's hands on her, and it made her sick. Her heart fluttered every damn time, while her body recoiled instinctively. It was such a frustrating, difficult, irritating, and maddening combination. She missed her uncle. She loved her uncle. A day hadn't gone by yet that she hadn't thought about him. But lately it seemed like Ileana had found distractions that were just _too_ good. When night came, she would crawl into bed and realize she had not grieved that day, and it was always a painful realization. Sleep was uneasy after that as she spent the night hating herself.

While she assumed Dracula was not ignorant to her plight, Ileana grew more flustered that he simply ignored it. He rarely mentioned her uncle, unless it had to do with his research, and it was though the man's murder had never happened. Killing must come easy to him. It was a terrible thought, but based on his nature, it was unsurprising.

Her brown eyes studied him momentarily. They were both seated in his room… It was the only room in the castle with a set of couches in it, and Ileana had come to find it a rather relaxing place to read. Most of the time he was gone, anyway, and there was no bed – he slept in a coffin! – so it hardly even seemed like a bedroom. Regardless, Ileana liked it. She had spent the day picking the last of the summer's flowers, and had plans to record them in a journal. Shape, size, colour… Whatever, she was going to write it all down. It had sort of become her pet project now that she could get farther away from the castle. Plants were interesting, and their properties were limitless, once one knew how to access them. Dracula had joined her about two hours ago. He had said very little. Instead, he settled onto the dark blue couch across from hers, arranged his books neatly on the small table between them, and varied between reading and writing in his own notebook. Every so often she would catch him look up at her, and then carry on scribbling something in that private little notepad of his.

God, she hoped he wasn't drawing her.

"What are you drawing?" she inquired. His eyes flickered up momentarily, and then back down as he shaded something noisily.

"Nothing of your concern."

Ugh, he _was_ drawing her. Wrinkling her nose, she shut her own notebook, set it gently onto the couch, and then rose. He continued to shade something on the vanilla pages, and only paused when she was halfway around the table, her brown eyes staring down at the paper greedily. So it wasn't her – embarrassing – but it was something else that caught her interest. From far away, it looked like a hospital bed. However, when she settled onto the couch next to him, she realized that there was so much more to this contraption on the page.

"It isn't finished…" he insisted absently, the drawing pencil resting loosely between his fingers, "but I think it is coming into its own…"

"What is it?" Ileana inquired. Dracula held the sketchpad out to her and she accepted it to examine more closely. He then shifted toward her a touch, his arm resting on the back of the dark blue sofa. A part of her could feel his steady breathing against her face, but the other half was far too interested in his contraption to care.

"I am still interested in creating life," he explained quietly as Ileana examined the sketch. "I cannot do it myself like any regular man… but I think with all our previous work, and my own research, I will find myself one step closer."

"To… To creating life?" she repeated as her eyes traced over what appeared to be electrical cords connected to the bed, and then connected somewhere off the page. "I don't understand… This looks like an operating table."

"Connected to electricity," Dracula said plainly. "Just as the Creature was when it was brought to life."

"But this looks different," she argued with a shake of her head. "There is more to it."

"Naturally… I do not have your uncle's brilliance to create the perfect conductor of permanent life source," Dracula mused, "but I think I can make something close to it."

"So you… You wish to conduct electricity through something else then?" Ileana asked, eyebrows knitted in confusion, "I wish you would speak more plainly."

"Not until I have it figured out entirely," he chuckled, the hand resting behind her fiddling with a piece of her loose hair delicately, "but when I do, I hope that I might be able to use your brilliance one last time."

She paused mid-page turn, and then closed his notepad before she stuffed it back into his hands. However, much to her own surprise, she didn't get up. No, Ileana sat on the couch silently, her eyes on the floor as he continued to play with a piece of her hair. She wanted nothing more than to slap him away and storm out in a huff. How dare he have the audacity to ask her to help him with something like this? To tempt her intellectual side while toying with her emotions? But deep down, she was sure they both knew it intrigued her and his touch had gone back to thrilling her much sooner than she anticipated.

"Please don't do this to me," she said weakly. "It's… It's torture. I beg you stop and just… go away."

Ileana flinched when his fingers cupped her chin and turned her head toward him. When their eyes met, it seemed like everything had faded away. Her body felt light, and the room was hazy in the background. All she could see was the man before her, and all she could hear was his voice.

"Is that what you really want?" Dracula asked as he leaned in, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," she answered without the slightest hesitation. He grinned, and for a moment her senses were overwhelmed with him. She could see every speck of the dark corners of his eyes. She could hear his breathing, even and calming. She could smell his scent; like the rich fabrics he purchased for her in Paris. She could feel her skin prickle as his hand slid up her arm. All that was left was taste. Ileana licked her lips absently, and she was not left wanting for long.

He was hardly shy about the kiss. Ileana inhaled sharply when his lips met hers, and a part of her shrieked inside out of relief. Although she hardly felt it, her hands gripped the front of his black shirt tightly and pulled him in, eager to show she was not the timid girl she had started off as. The previous sensations nearly tripled at the bodily contact, and every sense spiked. It was as though Ileana couldn't get enough of him. She longed for every part of her body to be touched, and the man before her seemed as compliant as ever. Before she knew it, she had been dragged up onto his lap, his large hands in her hair. Lips battled for dominance, and her hands were suddenly at the small buttons of his shirt, hardly fumbling as she undid them. The pale cream dress she had been wearing was pushed up to her thighs, and one of his hands left her hair to curl beneath the hem, his cold hands on her flesh.

Suddenly, everything changed. Her senses dulled, the electric touches stopped, and she became acutely aware that she was all but riding Dracula in the most indecent manner. She blinked away the haze, and everything was very clear before her eyes. A groan echoed in her throat, and she pushed herself off his chest somewhat violently. Her dress tumbled back down to cover her legs, and she ended up stumbling over the coffee table behind her, which caused her to fall.

"You… You did something!" she all but shouted, her eyes narrowing at him, "Are you a wizard on top of being a demon?"

He rolled his eyes, his breathing even to counter her panting, "I did not force you to do anything that you did not want to do… I simply let your inhibitions go. You were enjoying yourself-"

"Do not," she snarled, her eyes flashing and cheeks flaming with humiliation, "_ever_ take liberties with my inhibitions again!"

"Don't you want to be happy?" he demanded as he pushed himself to the edge of the couch. "I can give you what you want if you would just let me!"

"You are a horrible, vile, disgusting creature," Ileana sneered the best she could as she hastily got off the coffee table, snatched up her sketchbooks, and then turned back to glare at him. "I hate every part of you."

"Apparently not," he laughed cruelly. Ileana opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came. Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door as hard as she could, the painful sting of familiar tears coming to her eyes once more.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

A bit short, sorry. But I'm kind of okay with the length, since it's exam time at uni. Love you all for the reviews... they totally keep me going!


	17. Tainted

_Turn my sorrow into treasured gold,  
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown_

_Adele – Rolling in the Deep_

In Ileana's world, no matter how deep she was in the realm of the sciences, women her age should be married. By now, had she remained in England with the rest of her family, she would have had a husband who may or may not love her, and potentially a child, or one on the way. All of the girls she knew growing up would have gone down this path by now. Naturally, there might have been a few that joined a nunnery, or potentially refused to marry any man ever. Spinsterhood awaited them. Unfortunately, the more Ileana thought about it, the more she realized that was her path too. It was never a subject she gave too much thought to in the past, but seeing as she had all this free time on her hands, and there was a man who refused to leave her life to focus on, Ileana couldn't help but ponder her romantic future. She had always assumed she would marry the son of one of her uncle's scientific friends. They would move in together somewhere, experiment together, have children, and raise them to appreciate the finesse of the scientific world. It certainly wasn't every woman's dream, but deep down it had been Ileana's, and it pained her to realize that the dream shattered the day her uncle died.

Despite his advances, which grew bolder ever since she had let herself kiss him almost a month ago, Ileana knew that Dracula would never marry her. Perhaps he wanted to and she would not give him the chance to ask, but there was no way in her good conscience that she could allow herself to become betrothed to the man – vampire, demon, whatever – who brutally murdered her uncle. However, he was intoxicating. The word, though vile, seemed suited for the Count. She could mope around all day and hate every piece of his being, but as soon as they were in the same room together, Ileana found herself less horrible to him. Now, this usually meant she ignored him until it was absolutely necessary to engage in conversation, but this was quite tame for what she wished to do to him. After all, he was holding her here as a captive against her will. This had to be illegal, or something.

But all that aside, Ileana had taken the time lately to focus on herself. Here she was, on the eve of her twentieth birthday, and still a virgin without a real suitor of any kind. By society's standards, she was an old hag, and there were very few men now who would want her for anything other than her mind. A small part of her was perfectly accepting of that. Men should desire her for what comes out of her mouth, not what her mouth can do for them in private. They were shameful thoughts, all these thoughts about sexual activities, but they had been brought on by the sudden finding of the famed Asian novel that had countless sexual positions in it from the Count's library. He wasn't around when she found it, but Ileana still took the thick – and worn looking – novel back to her room for further reading. It was one area that she had not explored yet, the realm of sexual desires. Naturally, she had gotten a little taste of it with the Count, but after a thorough examination of the book, and the rough French translations that she could make out, there was clearly so much more to learn.

From what she gathered, many of the positions were made so that each partner felt optimum pleasure. Everything that she had thought about sexual intercourse flew out the window during her readings; she never assumed that men would perform in order to satisfy their women, but apparently they were out there. Somewhere. Was Dracula one of them? During their heavy petting sessions – as they could only be described as thus – there was some sort of indication that he might have been a gracious lover. Perhaps he simply knew what he was doing. After all, the man was immortal, and had probably slept with hundreds of women over the years to perfect the talent. Did that bother her? Of course it did, but Ileana was a scientist; she could never assume anything without proof to deny or accept it. Was she going to ask the Count how many women he slept with over the years? Of course not. It was none of her business, nor did she feel like making the pleasantries of that conversation a part of their relationship.

However, on that evening, it seemed that their relationship would take on a sexual nature. Ileana wanted it gone. She wanted to be a woman. After all, at midnight she would no longer been a teen girl, and if no man was going to have the chance to marry her, then she might as well move on with her life by her own means. No man was going to get near her while Dracula was there, and Ileana was not about to fathom the idea of losing her virginity to Igor. Oh, the thought alone was enough to make her retch. Tonight, Ileana was going to use Dracula for her own means, just as he had done for over a year now. He was nothing more than a man she knew that would not object to indulging in her sexual experience and that was that.

Well, hopefully that was that. Her reoccurring feelings for the man were a constant worry, but Ileana had become adept at shoving them down into a deep, dark place where they ought to remain until the next time. At the moment, they were gone. However, she figured she would need some liquid courage in order to get this over with without becoming emotional and attached. Earlier in the day, she had broken into Igor's alcohol stash and stolen whatever smelled the least horrible. They all lacked a label, so she wasn't exactly sure what she was drinking. After all, the furthest form of alcohol she had indulged in came from wine, and that was once several years ago during a Christmas festival with her uncle. Then again, there were her brief few trysts with champagne, but she had never really been a fan. Therefore, on the night she would become a woman, she would try her luck at two new things. Hopefully, they would make for a smooth transition into the new chapter of her life.

See! No need for a husband when one had ample amounts of alcohol and a man that would surely partake in the removal of her girlhood. She waited until the various clocks around the castle struck midnight, and took her final swig of alcohol. It was enough to cloud her vision, and make her face feel numb, but not enough that she could not form a coherent sentence, or walk a straight line. Ileana dressed in nothing but her sleeping robe; seductive, but easy to cover herself should Igor run into her in the hallway. The Count had been in his study for most of the night. There had been a light shining from under the door when she marched past it earlier, though had not come to give his greetings. Perhaps he was distracted… Ileana was sure that her issue was much more inviting than whatever he was doing, however.

Once she was sure it was after midnight, Ileana blew out the candles in her room, and began to tip-toe down the stairwell to the Count's floor. When she arrived, she stood outside his door for a few minutes, simply staring at it. There was a part of her that begged her to wait. Wait until all this was over – if it would ever be – and find a man who would be the only man she would ever give herself to. Find a man who would be grateful that she had waited, no matter her age. However, the much larger urges in her body demanded that she be rid of this tie to naivety, childishness, and school-girl fancies that would forever haunt her if she did nothing. So, with her heart pounding violently against her breast, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Dracula looked up from his writing desk. He had an ink quill in his hand, some papers scattered around him, and several candles to illuminate the area. The fireplace was lit, and the room radiated heat that her sensitive skin picked up on instantly. With a sigh, she shut the door behind her and then leaned back against it, her eyes at par with his. She must have been a sight, there in her dressing robe, bare feet, and hair a mess down her back.

"A little late for reading, don't you think?" Dracula mused as he set down his quill, an eyebrow cocked at her curiously.

"It's my birthday today," she stated, ignoring his first comment, "and I'm no longer a bright-eyed teenager…"

"Oh?" he remarked. Dracula rose from his seat, hands clasped behind his back, and then cleared his throat, "Have you been drinking? I can smell it from here…"

"A rhetorical question, if you already know the answer," Ileana remarked, "but I have. As an adult now, I wanted to experience all things adult."

"I see…"

"So I thought that it might be right for you to help me with my experiences," she explained, a speech she had practiced sober, but sounded a little hesitant now with the alcohol. "Are you busy?"

"Not particularly," Dracula replied when he stopped in front of the fireplace, a few feet from her, still with a somewhat perplexed look on his face. "I'm confused-"

"A first!" she trilled when she too stopped before the mantel, able to reach out and grab him if she wished. He frowned.

"Why have you come here?"

"I thought I explained that," Ileana insisted with a frown of her own. "I want… I want to no longer be a little girl, seeing as it does not fit my age anymore."

"Respectable women wait until they are married for what you ask of," Dracula said after a moment or two of silence.

"Will any man marry me now?" she laughed coldly, arms extended to the sides to show herself off. "The niece of a loon, too old for children should I ever leave here, too inexperienced for anything else? No man will have me…"

"A man will have you, but you must let him first."

"I'm doing that as we speak!" she argued, undoing the top strings of her robe. "You know what I want… Are you denying me?"

"You'll hate me even more if I accept the very tempting offer," Dracula stated. He then reached forward and retied her dressing gown, "Go to sleep. You'll be happy you did when morning comes and the alcohol is gone."

She stared at him, almost hurt that he had so blatantly rejected her, and then cleared her throat, "Don't you want me?"

"I…" he started, his dark eyes trailing down her body as she stepped closer, "I want so much of you."

"So then…. Take it," she insisted, her fingers running over the small buttons of his black shirt. "I want you to."

"You're drunk-"

"I'm fine," she argued, exasperated at his reluctance. "I had a few drinks so I wouldn't walk away when I stood in front of your door… Please do this for me. I want to move forward."

He said nothing in return. Dracula simply stared down at her, as though contemplating the pros and cons to making this type of decision. Luckily, Ileana was more than capable of making it for him. Without a second of hesitation, she cupped his face and pulled him down into a kiss. She tried to think back to that night, a month ago, when she kissed him with reckless abandonment. It had been enjoyable, and for a few seconds, she didn't feel like some simpering little girl when a man touched her.

Suddenly, he had her gripped by the arms and pushed her away, still holding her, "Is this what you want?"

"If you ask me again, I'll leave and find a man who _will_ do this for me," she snapped. That was all he needed. Before she had much chance to react, he had her up against the wall beside the mantel, legs wrapped around his hips, mouth to hers. Ileana felt her stomach knot in anticipation, but in a pleasant sort of way. His hands gripped her legs, and one rolled her dressing gown to her hips, where he paused. Perhaps he was surprised to find her completely bare beneath, and perhaps he wasn't sure what to do after. However, Ileana wasn't going to let it stop because he suddenly had regrets. She reached down and as she arched her back, tugged the dressing gown up and over her shoulders, then tossed it aside.

Cheeks red with embarrassment, and perhaps a hint of shame, Ileana looked away from him, and gasped when she felt his lips on her neck. They worked their way down to her breast, and while she felt embarrassed that he was seeing her completely nude, she knew it was necessary. After all, the illustrations in the book had couples without any clothing; this was normal. To facilitate his undressing, she moved around his head and found the buttons of his shirt once more, popping them open with relative ease. He shifted and pulled away from her only for a moment to shed the clothing, and then pulled her close to kiss him again heatedly. Flesh on flesh felt wonderful, but he was so very cold compared to her flushed body. The contrast, though strange, was pleasing.

Ileana inhaled sharply when she no longer found herself against the wall, but settled down on the top of his coffin. The change happened so quickly, and she felt disconnected from him when he moved away momentarily to grab two small pillows from the couch. One he set under her head, and the other under her hips. Wordlessly, he climbed onto the hard surface and kissed her, this time his hand nestling between her legs. She cried out against his lips at the sudden sensation, foreign and pleasurable at the same time. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and she arched her body against the cold fingers that were doing their job perfectly. This was what the book had spoken about. The time before proper sexual intercourse, the one that is enjoyable for both partners, begins like this. Heavy petting, kissing, groping, and a lot of panting. Well from Ileana, anyway. A finger slipped inside her, and Ileana cried out, this time in slight discomfort. He hushed her soothingly while he nibbled on her earlobe. The pain subsided after some readjustment, and as he moved within her, she felt a strange build of desire.

This carried on for some time. She had always thought sexual activities were quick and set to the man's pace, but this was taking much longer than she had expected. Not that she was complaining, but the pressure building in her nether regions was becoming almost too much. She grasped his wrist and tugged at him to leave her be, which earned a chuckle from the man. He kissed her roughly again, and she could hear him undoing the ties of his pants. This was it. She inhaled deeply in preparation for the event itself, finally. Ileana was too shy to look down at him, despite their current predicament. He cupped her chin suddenly and forced her eyes to meet his, and informed her that she still had the chance to tell him to stop. A smirk on her lips, despite her inner nervousness, was enough and he positioned himself appropriately. The man whispered for her to relax, and she felt her body ease into his words.

He was doing it again. That trick where he displayed some sort of supernatural control over her body and emotions, but for the moment Ileana was beyond caring. Her body tingled with the tease of pleasure from before, and she wanted to feel the satisfaction that the book had promised her if the sex was mutually beneficial. And then suddenly it was there. He was obviously wider than his fingers, and she groaned when she felt him stretch her at the start of penetration. It hurt. More than she had expected. She bit her lip to stop it from wobbling the further in he went. No matter how soothing his voice was in her ear, no words of reassurance could take the pain away. If she hadn't been this artificially relaxed, how much more would it hurt? He asked if he should stop, but she shook her head and urged him to continue. This was it. This was the transition away from innocence and inexperience.

Ileana tug her nails into his back as he thrust again. The pain was still there, and it was there for some time. Eventually, she started to feel something similar to the pleasure his fingers had caused earlier and he moved faster inside her. He pulled her leg up, his hand resting gently beneath her kneecap, and the pain subsided much quicker. Just as the book had said, the positioning of the body was going to change the inner feelings. Perhaps Ileana was in need of more study? Well, that would come with time.

"W-Wait," she stammered as she felt him thrust quickly in her, his face concentrated on what she could only perceive as his own pleasure, "I don't want to become pregnant…"

He paused, and then gave her a quick kiss, "My love, we are not even the same species… I can't get you pregnant, even if I tried."

"Oh…"

Ileana gasped as he thrust deep, deeper than he had done before, and a few thrusts later he was groaning in her ear. From that, she realized that he had finished, just as the book said would happen eventually. She lay beneath him as he kissed her neck softly, and she frowned. Ileana thought she might have felt differently after all this. There was this expectation that she would feel empowered after taking control of her own sexuality and her ascendance into adulthood. Instead, she felt empty. The act itself had felt good, and when she looked at Dracula, she felt those loving feelings threaten to emerge again, but she managed to suppress them. This wasn't at all what she had wanted. When it was all finished, Ileana had wanted to get up, feel like an adult, and confidently stroll out in command of her own body. But laying there, even when Dracula eased out of her and leaned against the side of the coffin, Ileana felt little and weak again.

This had been a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake. Why she had thought this would change anything was beyond her at that point. But this was what you did when you got married… surely brides felt empowered and elated with their newfound status?

"Ileana," Dracula murmured as he stroked her hair, "are you all right?"

She lay still for about a minute, staring at the ceiling, and then shook her head. Without another word, she rolled off the side of the coffin and quickly picked up her discarded night gown. She slipped it on quickly, and then departed without looking back at him.

What had she done? She had ruined absolutely everything in less than hour.


	18. Madalina

_Oh, Devon, won't go to Heaven_

_She's just another lost soul about to be mine again_

_Inside the Fire – Disturbed _

Although it might seem immature, Ileana found herself unable to even look at the Count after their night together. She considered herself a woman now, yes, but she felt humiliated that the whole incident did not leave her empowered. Instead, she felt as though Dracula now owned another part of her, and it would become harder and harder to leave him when he had so much of her. He insisted that he had told her this would be the outcome. The man stormed off angrily about two days ago after a week of her ignoring him, and she had not seen him since. Of course, she understood his frustration. He had, after all, tried to convince her that it would be a mistake for the pair to engage in sexual intercourse before they were married. Ileana, too engrossed in her own plans, ignored him and pursued the matter until it was completed. Therefore, his anger with her current temperament was just, unfortunately.

It was nice not to have him around, however, because that way she wasn't forced to relive her shame on a daily basis. Igor seemed to miss the Count's company, as minimal as it had been, and locked himself in his chambers whenever the vampire was not around. It was a strange relationship, the two had. Ileana never believed she could interpret it, and left it at that. However, with both men out of the way, Ileana continued to feel a little lonely at times. When they were around, she abhorred their company, but sometimes being completely alone was a depressing thing in itself. Therefore, on a slightly cloudy fall day, she decided it was time to take Mercy for one of her last rides before the snow fell. It was quite cold outside now, and the castle fires burned day and night in order to keep the lofty building at a somewhat tolerable temperature.

Wrapped in a thick wool cloak, Ileana slung a sack of fruit and bread over her back – in case she wished to sit by the river's edge and snack, as she usually did – and made her way out to the stable in the courtyard. Mercy whinnied at her approach, and she reached into the sack with a smile before she pulled out a few apple slices with which she spoiled the mare. The creature always had such a calming presence about her, and she had come to realize why man and horse were such close companions. Men chose them to be their companions in times of war and peace, and the decision made absolute sense. They adapted incredibly well to change terrain, held a person high above the ground, and moved like lightning with a few precise kicks. She wondered why her uncle had never insisted on raising horses; they would have been excellent draft animals for lugging equipment and heavier test subjects around.

After opening the front gates, saddling Mercy with the appropriate gear, and ensuring that she had packed a kitchen knife in her sack (for emergencies), Ileana hauled herself up onto the horse and settled onto her back. Without much prodding, Mercy trotted toward the castle gates; she knew she was going out. Once they were out on the trails, Ileana usually let Mercy pick the route. They would travel along the steep edges of the river banks, through the well-worn trails in the trees, canter across the one open valley field behind the castle, and eventually come to a stop at a clearing by the river. The whole ordeal would usually lead her about an hour away from the castle, but the property still belonged to Dracula – as far as she was aware, anyway – so she never felt insecure during her rides. Sometimes she heard wolves, or some other creatures, in the distance, but they were never close enough to cause her any real worry. Most animals detested Dracula, as evidenced by both Mercy and Doc, so Ileana assumed that wildlife steered clear of their castle naturally.

The trees had nearly lost all of their autumn leaves. The ground was hard when Ileana dismounted Mercy, but she preferred this to spring mud. Her horse paused for a quick drink in the river, and then busied herself grazing at the small patch of grass left near the trees. She never once had to worry about the horse bolting, and rarely tied her up when they stopped for a break. It seemed that Mercy wanted to be where Ileana was, which was always comforting. While Mercy grazed, Ileana settled down near the river's edge, her back against a large boulder and her fresh food on her lap. Although chilled, she enjoyed her time in the outdoors. The wind was soothing, and the rushing water was enough to hold her attention for hours on end if she let it. While Ileana adored laboratory work, the natural world had a whole extra level of interest that she had only just discovered recently. It was a shame winter was coming, and soon her beautiful nature would be covered with a fresh blanket of snow. Perhaps it would be lovely in itself; Ileana had never taken the time before to admire the snow.

Mercy's loud snort brought her from her thoughts, and she looked over her shoulder quickly. The horse backed away from her grazing spot, and Ileana was soon on her feet, concerned that some predator had managed to ignore Dracula's boundaries. However, as soon as she was at the horse's side, she noticed that it was not a vicious wolf that she needed to worry about, but a human child instead. A little girl, to be exact. Crouched between two trees, Ileana spied one of the dirtiest little girls she had ever seen. After making a quick age estimate, she assumed the girl was no older than six. She had long, tangled, and extremely dirty blonde hair beneath a grey cap. There were dark circles around her sunken eyes, and a bit of dirt on her face. Her clothing fit that of the Romanian peasantry, and she needn't hazard a guess what class she belonged in.

The girl stared at Ileana and the horse for a moment, some dying plants in her hands, but she did not bolt in the opposite direction when Ileana took a careful step forward. Mercy seemed less inclined to investigate, and pawed the ground irritably with her hoof, no doubt upset to be disturbed from her late afternoon snack.

"_Bună ziua_," Ileana managed, hastily trying to remember her very limited Romanian vocabulary. Honestly, she had lived in this country since she was a young teen, and it was pathetic how much of the native language she actually knew. The little girl meekly returned the greeting, her voice cracking as she did, and Ileana wondered if she was sick. She looked malnourished, if anything, and she was sure there were other problems lying beneath her robes.

"_Mama sau tata__?_" Ileana inquired, asking whether the girl had parents around in very poor Romanian. The girl shook her head slowly and Ileana sighed. Of course not. There were far too many orphaned children in the world, not just this country. At least she was looked after, but it was becoming very apparent that this little girl was stuck fending for herself in the wilderness. The blonde fiddled with her hair for a moment or so, and then turned away, as though she was going to leave.

"Oh, no, wait!" Ileana called, which made her stop, "Are you hungry? I… er, I have food if you'd like... _Alimentație_?"

She hastily retreated to her sack of food and returned with a small loaf of bread, and then extended it to the little girl. Although hesitant at first, a warm smile and a nod encouraged her to come closer, and when she finally accepted the bread, Ileana watched with astonishment as she polished it off in a matter of seconds. Her big blue eyes then looked back up at Ileana, silently inquiring if she had more, and very soon the girl was seated beside Ileana at the river bank, eating the rest of her day's snack speedily.

"_Cum te cheama?_" Ileana finally managed, asking for the girl's name after some time of silence.

"Madalina," the girl replied softly.

Ileana smiled, and then brought her hand to her own chest, "Ileana."

The girl returned the smile half-heartedly, and then said something in Romanian too quickly for Ileana to fully understand. Something along the lines of her name being Romanian, though she missed whatever came afterward. The winds began to shift, and she felt her skin prickle. Night came sooner and sooner with each day, and although it was only late afternoon, she had a bit of ride to get back to the castle, and she needed to start now if she wanted to be back shortly after dusk. However, she could not, in good conscience, leave the girl here to freeze and starve. So, she gathered up her now empty sack, stuck it in one of the side bags on Mercy's saddle, and held out her hand for Madalina to take. When she did, she pointed from the ground to the horse, and offered the little girl more food. It seemed to translate, and she allowed Ileana to lift her onto Mercy without much of a struggle.

Ileana climbed on afterward, and after a bit of readjustment, she urged Mercy forward with a light kick to the sides. Madalina was a quiet passenger on their ride back to the castle, and barely even moved on her own for the entire duration of the ride. As she had predicted, the sun set just as she arrived back at the castle, and they were inside the gates quickly as total darkness covered the surrounding grounds. After setting Mercy in her stable, she was a little astonished that Madalina helped lug some hay over to the horse as Ileana did a quick cleaning of the pen. Perhaps she had been a stable hand, or a farmer's daughter, at some point in her past. Once they were finished, Ileana took her by the hand and led her inside, which was considerably warmer than the outdoors. Their first stop was the longest haul, and Ileana took the child up to her room. In there, she seated Madalina in front of the fireplace and rummaged through her things to find her something else to wear.

Naturally, she had no clothes that would fit the thin girl perfectly, but they eventually managed to swap her old shirts for two of Ileana's which ended up being like dresses on her. She tied a fabric belt around the girl's waist to keep the material closer to her body, and then carried her downstairs to the kitchen. From there, Ileana set her at the table with some more bread, and began to concoct a hot broth stew from the left-over meats in the pantry. There wasn't really much in the form of a conversation between the two of them, however. Ileana gave up on her poor Romanian, and the pair sort of talked at one another in their native tongue, both acknowledging that hand signals were the way to go if they wanted to understand one another.

Once her dinner was finished, Ileana set out two bowls at the table and filled them with the soup. The pair ate in silence, and when Madalina rushed through hers – no doubt burning her poor mouth – Ileana asked if she wanted more, and she eagerly nodded her head. Ileana was perfectly content with just one bowl for the night, and left the little girl to nurse her second helping to fetch a hairbrush so she could start to work on her ratty hair. She sat the girl on her lap and let her keep eating while Ileana worked at some of the more knotted parts, earning a whimper here and there from Madalina, but nothing more in terms of a protest.

She became so focused on her task that she hardly noticed when Dracula stopped in the doorway, a perplexed and slightly annoyed look on his face. Madalina seemed to notice, despite her own rather intense focus on her food, and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"What is this?" she heard him demand, making her flinch with surprise. Ileana looked up, a little startled, and then arched her eyebrow at him.

"It's a girl," she replied sarcastically before returning to her work on the blonde tangles. "I'm sure that much is obvious."

"Yes, yes it is," he remarked, his tone clipped as he entered the kitchen. "Why is she in here, and where did you find her? Was she trespassing?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Ileana insisted. "I was out for a ride with Mercy, and we ran into each other… I couldn't just leave her out there."

"Why not?"

She frowned, "Because I have a heart, and I wasn't about to let her starve to death in the forest. She says she doesn't have parents."

"Oh?"

"Well, from what I gather… She doesn't speak any English."

She glared at one particular knot on the back of the girl's head, and pondered silently if it would be better if she just cut the whole bottom section off. It would certainly make it easier on both of them and less painful for Madalina. However, the Count broke her concentration once again when he suddenly reached out and dragged Madalina off Ileana's lap, which made the girl yelp in terror.

"What are you doing?" Ileana demanded heatedly as she rose from the chair. She watched as Dracula spoke to the girl in Romanian, too quick for her to catch any of it. Madalina gave short, quiet responses in return, and when she was finished, Dracula pushed her away, disgusted.

"She's a poor brat from the village across the mountains," he explained irritably as he looked at Ileana, "and she does have parents, she just left them."

"Probably because they were cruel to her," Ileana reasoned, ushering the girl into her arms. "Don't handle her so roughly."

"She's not made of glass, Ileana," he snapped. "She's a beggar, no doubt sent out by her parents to rummage for food and money… It would be best if I brought her back."

"She can leave if she wants to leave," she fired back heatedly, hoisting the small girl up and onto her hip, "but I won't send her out into the cold!"

Madalina wrapped her arms around Ileana's neck, her face buried in her hair, and then let out a cry when Dracula tried to pull her away. Ileana glared at him and stepped back, "Stop it! You're frightening her!"

"Don't be so soft, Ileana," he sneered. "It's unbecoming."

Ileana set the girl down at the table once more, put the spoon back in her hand, and urged her to keep eating. After, she stalked out of the kitchen, Dracula in tow, and stopped once they were in the hallway.

"I don't want to fight with you over this," he started, sounding more weary than angry, and she quickly cut him off.

"Please let me have her," she pleaded, looking him in the eye for the first time in a long time. "Please? I am so terribly lonely here, and I know it will only get worse when winter comes!"

He seemed taken aback that she had not launched into a huge tirade about how he was completely wrong. Ileana didn't want to fight. She was so tired of arguing and snapping at him over the smallest things. It was simply too draining for her to keep up; she had never argued this much with anyone in her entire life.

"If you would let me, I can keep you company," Dracula insisted as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She stood still for a moment, letting him touch her, and then weakly pushed his hand away.

"You know why I can't let you do that," she remarked with a shake of her head, "but if you let me keep her, perhaps something else will keep my attention now… and I won't be so fixed on loathing you."

"I would prefer that," he admitted begrudgingly, and from there she knew that she had him. He sighed and rolled his eyes upward. "She can stay until she causes trouble… After that, you will never see her again."

Ileana grinned and then grasped his hand with both of hers, and earnestly thanked him. With someone else here, she wouldn't find herself so preoccupied with the man. There was so much to do with Madalina, anyway. First, nurse her back to a healthy appearance. Then, they would work on her English and education… A whole new chapter was officially starting with this little girl, one that she planned to take full advantage of at last.


	19. Marriage

_Release your life to begin another time with her_

_End your grief with me, there's another way_

_Release your life, take your place inside the fire with her_

_Inside the Fire – Disturbed _

Ileana had never thought she would be a motherly person. Naturally, all women have that innate urge to care for children, but Ileana had always thought she was too deep into science to have time to want to mother someone. Besides, there was no potential mate on the horizon for such a long time that the possibility of having children was limited, at best. But now, she had the chance to explore that side of her life without the pain of childbirth. While like most women she adored being a 'mother', she did not have that aching desire to push a baby out of her body. No, she knew the intricate details of that process, and nothing of that nature appealed to her. Having Madalina almost felt like cheating, but she didn't particularly care. For the first time in a long time, she was happy. That little blonde girl instantly brightened up her whole world, and she could forget about grieving, hating Dracula, and stressing over his renewed interest in scientific experiments. Instead, she spent her days cooking, playing outdoors, and teaching Madalina her letters, numbers, and basic English. She picked it up quickly, as most children did when it came to languages, and two months after the girl's arrival, the two could have standard conversations in English without much trouble.

Her relationship with Dracula had slowly changed ever since Madalina arrived. While Ileana focused all her time on the girl, she sort of forgot about hating him. Every so often she reminded herself that he was a bastard, but whenever he did something sweet with the little girl, she couldn't help but smile. Aside from her initial fright of the man, Madalina seemed to warm to him quickly. It probably helped that he bought her an entire new wardrobe on a trip to the capital. It was a little irritating to realize that was exactly how he won her over to start with, but Ileana tried not to dwell on it. Now, whenever Dracula showed up, he came prepared with a little trinket of some kind for the girl. She associated him with good feelings, and was soon asking when the Count would return. Perhaps it was because she had had nothing in life before, but the girl definitely had expensive tastes. Regardless, Ileana found herself developing a soft spot for Dracula again as he spoiled the girl. He was less forward with her now, sexually, but she could only assume that was because she spent the majority of her time with a young girl. For that, she was grateful. It was easier to tolerate him when he wasn't trying to touch her, or toy with her inhibitions.

They were well into the winter months at this point. The castle was surrounded with snow, and the river had just barely frozen solid. Mercy was quite displeased with the cold temperatures, and Ileana constantly had to check on her to make sure she was still wearing the blanket that she and Madalina had knitted for her. She had a dreadful habit of pulling it off, and then going into a grump when Ileana arrived to fix it. Clearly, the horse preferred a warmer climate, and it was only then that Dracula admitted her had purchased her from travelling Turks. And by purchased, Ileana was quite sure he meant 'stole', because the man had a very strong dislike for anyone from the famed Ottoman Empire, even more so than the villagers.

Speaking of the villagers, Ileana had not heard a peep from them since the night her uncle died. Although she occasionally looked out her window to watch the swirling smoke float up from their chimneys, they had not caused a fuss for quite some time. Velkan had basically disappeared from her world, as saddening as that was, and Ileana wondered if he had forgotten about her completely. There had been many times where she wished to escape the castle and flee to her mysterious Romanian prince. He would surely receive her, but after learning of Dracula's true nature, she had no intentions of setting that evil onto anyone else. For the safety of Velkan and his family, Ileana realized that it was best if she kept her distance. Everyone would be just a little safer for her caution.

Dracula began building his new contraption when the snow started a month ago. Ileana had been asked for input here and there, but it seemed as though neither Dracula nor Igor wanted her involvement for the time being. Whenever she inquired as to what they were making, Dracula explained he would give her the details when it was finished. Of course, he had said, he wanted her input, but not during the mechanical construction of it all. Instead, she should spend this time with Madalina, as their bonding during the girl's first few months here was important to establishing a healthy relationship. Deep down, she had a feeling that he simply didn't want her meddling, but for now she was perfectly happy to spend her days with Madalina outside the laboratory. That room gave her nothing but troubles, and she feared the more time she spent in it, the more she would find herself sucked back into the darkness that had engulfed her earlier in the year.

For that evening, Ileana had agreed to let Madalina skip her standard after-dinner studies so the two could play outside. There was a fresh fall of snow that afternoon, and it was still lightly descending when the pair slipped out the castle's main door. The pair built a man out of snow, checked on Mercy several times, and were about to return indoors – Ileana was positively frozen – when Madalina threw a snowball at her. From there, a war broke out in the courtyard of Castle Frankenstein, one filled with laughter, near misses, and a few really good shots to her back when she wasn't looking. Before she knew it, another full hour had passed, and she realized that Madalina ought to have been in bed some time ago.

"All right, all right," Ileana laughed as she dodged a rather large snowball. "Time to go inside… You should have been in bed a half an hour ago."

"Aren't we having fun?" Madalina inquired deviously, an impish gleam in her eye. "Just a little longer, Ileana!"

"No, no," she stated, a little more firmly this time. "It's getting too cold too. Go on… I'll check on Mercy before I come tuck you in."

She gave something of a pout, a face that had worked on Ileana for a little while until its power wore off, and then gave a little huff before returning indoors. With a sigh, Ileana shook her head and sauntered over to Mercy's stall to ensure that the horse hadn't removed her covering for the night. Pleased to see that the blanket was still intact, she pulled another bale of hay in so she would have a little more to munch on during the night. A little bit of extra fat on a girl during the winter never hurt anyone, especially when you had to spend the day outdoors. As she was shutting the door to the stall, she sensed that she wasn't alone. He liked to watch her when she least expected it, but after being surprised so often, she had gotten used to his tricks. This time when she turned back, she did not jump to see him leaning against the stairwell up the main entrance. He smiled when their eyes met, something she returned lightly, and then readjusted her thick cloak around her shoulders.

"She got to stay awake late this evening," he commented as Ileana approached him. She shrugged.

"We were having too much fun in the snow, I think."

"You'll get sick if you stay out here too long," Dracula noted. She almost made it past him, but was stopped when he grasped her wrist, and then pulled her back to him. Not quite as he would have before, so aggressive and possessive, but enough so that she was close to his form. Ileana did not step away as she might have, perhaps because he had not handled her like a ragdoll. Instead, she stood still as he brushed a bit of snow from her hair with a gloved hand.

"You know what she asked me today?" he inquired suddenly. Ileana cocked an eyebrow, and he continued, "Madalina asked if we were married. I told her we were not, and she was so horribly confused… She could not understand why we live together and are not married."

"It does… counteract the norm," Ileana managed to get out, "but I would hardly say we live together. You live elsewhere, and visit my home."

He smirked, "A formality, I suppose."

"You cannot really explain the complexities of our relationship to a child, can you?" Ileana mused, her breath fogging the space between them as she spoke. Madalina was constantly asking who Dracula really was. The girl knew that he had authority, but Ileana was not his servant, nor his daughter, so it was only natural that she would assume they were married, or at least betrothed. However, she wasn't about to go out of her way to explain why that was next to impossible for her to imagine.

"She seemed to be inside my mind with the question," Dracula remarked, ignoring her previous statement. Ileana frowned, and then gasped when he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small box, "I have been meaning to ask you for some time, and watching you with her made me realize I cannot wait anymore. Not only are you a brilliant mind, but I have no doubt that you will make an excellent mother-"

"Please don't," Ileana said quickly to cut him. She shook her head, but he opened the box anyway to reveal a rather shiny ring inside. It wasn't extravagant, but it would have been enough to impress any woman eager to receive it.

"Why not?"

"We both know why!" Ileana snapped. She felt her fury rising; they had been doing so well ever since Madalina arrived, and she was actually able to tolerate spending longer periods of time with him. She hadn't been thinking about his past transgressions, but now he wanted to ruin everything by asking for something she could not possibly give him.

"Put it away," she demanded as she pushed his hand back. "Don't… Don't spoil it by doing this."

"We care very deeply for one another," Dracula argued. "It makes sense!"

"I'm not going to marry you because _you_ think it makes sense!" she trilled furiously, "Why are you doing this? You're ruining everything! I haven't forgiven you, but I've stopped… hating you to the point where I can bare to be around you, touch you… and you're going to ruin everything!"

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask," he chuckled. Ileana balked; it seemed pretty clear. Dracula shook his head at her, as though she were a petulant child throwing a tantrum, and then took her hand and placed the box in it. "I want you to think about it. I never expected you to say yes tonight."

"I won't… I won't say yes," she insisted weakly as she stared down at the box. "We both know that."

"One can dream, my dear," Dracula remarked, and then placed a rather chaste kiss on her cheek. "Now go… Madalina will want her story, and you'll get sick if you stay out here much longer."

She gazed at him for only a moment. Everything inside her was torn. Did she wish to marry an undead murderer? Most certainly not. Did she wish to marry Dracula, the man who had captured every piece of her once before, and was well on his way to doing it again? Of that, she wasn't completely sure. She said nothing to him as she turned away, and then quickly ascended the staircase. When she looked back to the courtyard, he was gone. A small part of her insisted that he wasn't really giving her a choice. After all, he had held her captive here against her will, and perhaps this was some mockery of freedom before he returned a day later to tell her she must accept, or he'd kill Madalina, or something monstrous like that. However, the part in her that had grown to tolerate him these past few months argued something different. He _did_ care for her. He had taken her girlhood, given her everything she had asked for, and admired her for her mothering skills with Madalina. Perhaps, he really did just want to marry her without a hidden agenda.

Ileana paused in the corridor and examined the ring once more. Most little girls dreamed of the day when someone would ask them to marry them because they loved them. It wasn't a political strategy, nor was it for wealth, or to unite some family unit… No, she could only assume that he was asking her because he wanted to be her husband for the purest of reasons. The alternative was simply just too painful to imagine.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Very short, I know, and I'm sorry! I just wanted to get this one out there for you guys. So happy for all the support and reader love I've been getting for this story, and I hope I can continue to entertain!**


	20. Bride

_Sever, now and forever_

_You're just another lost soul about to be mine again_

_Inside the Fire – Disturbed _

The ring felt heavy in her hand. Although it was slim and technically lightweight, Ileana couldn't help but feel dragged down as it sat in the palm of her hand. Perhaps it was the gravity of the decision that came with this very simple object that truly gnawed at her. Whatever the reason, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since Dracula presented the object to her two days earlier. It frustrated her that there was no one in the house to get an opinion on the matter. Igor barely spoke two words to her when Dracula was not around, and Madalina could hardly understand the complexities of their relationship, combined with the fact that she was merely a child made it impossible to discuss the situation with her. A small part of her wished she had a maid in the castle. At least there would have been another woman around to empathize with her situation, and perhaps even offer some advice. However, she had come to terms long ago that she needed to make her own decisions when it came to Dracula and her imprisonment in the castle.

A large part of her leaned toward accepting his offer. After all, no other man would take a spoiled woman, and he had been the one to do the spoiling. Ileana knew that he could offer her security, safety, and a comfortable life for the rest of her days, however long that might be. Unfortunately, a very powerful small part of her brain argued rationally. If she married him, there was a pretty good chance he might try to make her a vampire. From what she had gathered from careful prodding, it only took one precise bite to turn a human into a vampire. If he had been one for nearly four hundred years – as he claimed – then he would surely have the knowledge of turning humans into demons, and Ileana was quite sure she did not wish to become one. The very idea of feasting on flesh and turning into a scaly creature at will was enough to push her in the opposite direction in regards to the marriage. Sure, he could offer her the chance to live out her life as a human mortal, but she assumed that would not be satisfying for him, and eventually he would either end her, or turn her.

Both outcomes were horrifying, to say the least.

So Ileana remained silent on the issue. For the most part, she was heavily leaning toward accepting the offer. It could be a chance to start over again, and make her forget everything that had happened in the last year. She could get him to court her properly again, and then they could marry, and life could go on in the way that it was supposed to. But could she really do it? Could she just abandon everything that had happened, all the pain and suffering he had caused her for months, and just pretend like it had never occurred? Her rational side, her side that aligned itself with science and reason, told her that it was utterly impossible, and it would only hurt her in the end if she were to try. Once again, she felt herself grow frustrated and confused over the issue, and she shoved the ring back into the deep pocket of her thick purple winter dress. For now, it could wait. Madalina was finishing up with that evening's meal, and Ileana had a whole evening of very basic mathematic processes to teach her before bed.

The little girl hated math more than any of the other subjects that they went over, and seemed to enjoy history lessons the most. Ileana assumed it was because with history she simply had to listen to Ileana tell stories about England's history, while mathematics actually required her to think. It wasn't as though they were doing anything too difficult at this point. Everything was very, very, very basic adding and subtracting, and even that the girl took a long time to grasp. Ileana was patient, and sometimes she wished Madalina would just 'get it' and they could move on, she had to remind herself that not everyone understood somewhat incomprehensible subjects like mathematics and the sciences as quickly as she did when she was young. So Ileana was patient, because getting frustrated helped no one.

"Why can't we do history again tonight?" Madalina inquired as she set her dirty dishes next to the pile by the wash bucket. Ileana shot her a look.

"You've done enough history this week," she informed the little girl, who pouted a touch. "Practice makes everything easier, Madalina. Soon, you'll think mathematics is too easy, and want something harder!"

The little blonde frowned and folded her arms over her chest, "No."

"No what?" Ileana laughed as she piled the dishes on top of one another, vowing to do them after she put Madalina to bed in a couple of hours.

"No it won't be easy," the girl grumbled in return, leaning against the kitchen table with a sigh. "I don't want to, Ileana."

"It's not a discussion, really," she mused, pleased with the authoritative tone to her voice. "I promise we don't have to do mathematics for the rest of the week if you do it without complaining tonight."

She watched as Madalina contemplated the bargain, but her face kept that sour expression that always came up whenever Ileana wanted to get her into numbers and calculations. Finally, the girl gave a haphazard shrug to signify that she agreed with the notion of no mathematics for a week, though she still seemed less than impressed with the night's plans. Ileana laughed and crouched down to her level.

"Is that a frown I see?" she inquired playfully, "Perhaps I need to tickle it out of you… We know that makes the frowns go away!"

Madalina shrieked impishly as Ileana lunged at her, and then darted out of the kitchen as fast as her little legs could go. With a grin, Ileana chased after her. Their laughter echoed throughout the lower levels of the castle, and Ileana finally caught her by scooping an arm around her stomach and hoisting her back, tickling her sides in the process. It left the little girl in a fit of giggles as she haplessly tried to bat Ileana away. When their games finished, she held Madalina up on her hip – the girl was still so light that it was perfectly easy to do so – and started back toward the lab. They used her uncle's old study for schooling, and Ileana had transformed it into the perfect little nook in which studying could be conducted in. As she rounded the corner of the cobblestone corridor, so dimly lit by torches that she almost didn't notice at first, Ileana let out a gasp in fright as a woman stood staring at her in the centre of the hallway. Madalina too shared her sudden fright, and clung to her neck almost chokingly tight.

Ileana set the girl down quickly and forced her to stand behind her. It wasn't just the fact that there was a stranger in the castle that startled her; it was the woman's appearance. She was scantily clad, at best, with lengthy blonde hair that descended down her back in large curls. Her eyes were large, and outlined in dark circles of colour, while her skin was deathly pale, quite like Dracula's. Her outfit was… nearly indescribable. She was clad in a pair of yellow and white harem pants, a shirt that only barely covered her breasts, with lengthy sleeves cascading to the floor around toned arms. Her feet were bare, and Ileana briefly wondered how she traveled outside dressed like that without freezing to death.

"Hello," Ileana managed finally after a few moments of staring at one another.

"Good evening," the woman replied in return. Her voice was crisp and melodic with a very apparent Romanian accent, "I knew I'd be the first to find you."

She stared at the intruder, thrown off by her comment, and then cleared her throat, "I beg your pardon?"

"I _let_ you find her first!" another voice argued from behind her in the same harmonious tones as the first woman. Ileana turned around quickly, still clutching Madalina to her body, and observed a second intruding woman. This time, she had long red hair, swept up into an elegant bun. Her outfit was only moderately less revealing than the blonde's, and was a soft pink instead of yellow. Madalina whimpered quietly at her side, her hands clutching at the fabric of her dress tightly as the new woman walked in a circle around them, her eyes traveling up and down Ileana's body in a near predatory fashion.

"I thought she'd be ugly," the blonde commented. "After all, he craves her brains-"

"Our love is nothing if not a little materialistic," the redhead added as she joined her near twin in front of Ileana. "He wouldn't pick someone ugly."

Ileana took a deep breath to steady herself, "I'm sorry… I have no idea what you're talking about. However, you are in _my_ home uninvited, and I would like you to explain yourselves."

"Oh, don't be upset," the blonde cooed as she took a few steps toward her. Ileana immediately stepped backward to counter the movement, and the woman shook her head, "Of course we are invited, or we could not enter."

"I still don't… I still don't understand…"

"Perhaps he doesn't love her for brains," the redhead snickered, her hands rubbing the blonde's shoulders as she peered at Ileana. "He told us he asked you to marry him… We couldn't resist seeing what our new sister would be like! I'm glad you are pretty…"

"Not beautiful," the blonde added, "but very pretty."

She had guessed the 'he' they were referring to before had been Dracula, but a part of her prayed that she was wrong. However, when the redhead mentioned the marriage proposal, Ileana knew that it couldn't have been anyone else. Were they family? They had said she would be their sister… Perhaps they meant by marriage?

"Aleera! Marishka!"

All three women, Madalina included, flinched as Dracula's voice cracked like a whip down the hallway. She hadn't even noticed him come in, but the torches around them burned brighter as he approached the group. There was another woman with him, one that was vastly different than the two she had already met. This one had stick straight dark brown hair, and her outfit was certainly the most conservative of all, despite the sheer material over her stomach. Dracula seemed enraged as he stopped beside the women, who cowered around him like dogs, their eyes large as they clutched at his cloak.

"What did I tell you?" he demanded irritably, shooing them away with a wave of his hand.

"We had to see her," the redhead cooed, her voice shaking only a touch, "and make sure she was worthy of being your bride!"

"Your reasoning means little to me when you disobey, Aleera," Dracula snapped, which earned him a whimper from the woman. "I said to wait."

"Did you tattle?" Marishka demanded of the other woman, who merely turned her head toward the youthful bride and glared.

"When our master asks me a question, I won't lie to him," she informed the blonde stoically. Marishka stuck out her tongue in return, earning her another foul look from Dracula.

Ileana felt her chest heave as her breathing increased, and she slowly put all the pieces of this twisted puzzle together. They had collectively referred to Dracula as 'love' and 'master', which hardly meant that they were siblings. The women had also made references to her joining them, and putting two and two together, Ileana came to a rather horrible conclusion all on her own. They were all married to him. Each woman here had some sort of relationship with him that had to be physical, emotional, or sexual to some varying degree, and at that very moment, she felt her heart shatter.

"She needs time," Dracula stressed as he moved toward Ileana, "to consider my offer and everything it entails-"

"Go upstairs, Madalina," Ileana said finally, her voice barely kept civil as she spoke. The little girl need not be told twice, and stuck to the wall as she soundlessly escaped the situation.

"Why can't we have a human child?" Marishka whined as she watched Madalina disappear.

"You'd eat her in a day," Aleera laughed cruelly, to which her blonde counterpart bared her fangs in response. Ileana felt the colour drain from her face as she watched the interaction, and then brushed Dracula's hand away as it touched her arm delicately. She could feel his eyes trying to seek out hers, but she refused to meet them as she backed away from him.

"Are you all married to him?" she asked softly.

Before Dracula could respond, the more sombre of the brides nodded, "For over three hundred years."

It was as though all the air had been kicked out of her lungs. How could she have been so foolish to assume that a man, an immortal man at that, would be solely interested in her affections? Ileana side-stepped him as he tried to touch her again, and fished the proposal ring from her pocket. She then proceeded to shove it into his chest, not really caring if he caught it or not when she let go, and then looked the three women over quickly.

"I hope you have another happy three hundred years," she forced, and then added honestly, "and I'm glad to have met you."

Marishka frowned deeply at the statement, and she didn't take any time to gather the other women's facial expressions before she stormed away from the scene. She nearly ran to the staircase, content to lock herself up in her room until she figured out how to handle this new turn of events. As usual, Dracula caught up to her in an instant, and she nearly stumbled over the step as he pulled her to a stop.

"Ileana-"

"Is this why you asked me to marry you?" she demanded viciously, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Have you grown bored with the size of your harem? Looking to expand with a new addition?"

"You know that would never be the reason!" Dracula argued, holding her still as she tried to pull away from him, too repulsed to look at him a second longer.

"I… I have never been so insulted and humiliated all at the same time," Ileana cried angrily, swatting at him the best she could. "Nearly everything you've told me as been a lie! You told me they died-"

"My love, they did-"

"Do _not_ call me that!" she nearly screeched as she struggled to free herself, "You took all my affections, and yet in return you gave me something you shared with three other women!"

"You don't understand how this works," he stated, as though she was being completely unreasonable. "Each bride has my full devotion-"

"That's a contradiction in itself!"

"I can give myself to more than one woman," he continued forcefully, "and they each get a special relationship with me alone, and then together… I wanted to bring you into my family!"

"Your _family_ is a joke," Ileana hissed, "and morally apprehensible, to say the least! Though, I shouldn't have expected anything different. You disgust me-"

"Jealousy is not an emotion that suits you, Ileana."

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment she stopped struggling. Dracula released her, no doubt sure that she wouldn't bolt up the stairs away from him, and Ileana leaned against the wall of the stairwell, exhausted from everything.

"You think I'm jealous?" she whispered shakily. "Well, of course I am. The man I've loved and hated, and considered marrying, already has three women for himself. I'm hurt, embarrassed, and ashamed… more than I've ever been in my whole life…"

"I didn't mean for any of that," he told her tenderly, stepping up one stair to be closer to her. "This was not how I wanted any of this to happen."

"I need… I need time to think," Ileana remarked weakly, allowing him to brush a few of the wet stains on her cheek away momentarily. "Please go, and take them with you. I want to be alone with my thoughts."

He seemed hesitant, and she felt her eyes narrow at him, "I wouldn't do anything to myself now that I have Madalina to care for… I just want time alone."

With a quick nod, he leaned up to kiss her, but she turned her head to the side and felt his cold lips on her cheek. All she could think of doing was digging her thumb painfully into his eye socket and twisting whatever was in there. However, she remained still and solemn, staring at the floor until he turned away. A thought occurred to her.

"Make the sun shine tomorrow."

Dracula looked back at her, an eyebrow slightly up, and she sighed, "I could not stand another dreary day while I feel like this…"

Before he could respond, she turned away and marched slowly up the rest of the staircase. While her face looked weak and beaten, inside adrenaline flowed as her brain quickly formulated a plan. She would escape this place. Dracula would give her sunshine because she asked, and she would use it to flee with Madalina at her side. When she finally made it to her room, she found Madalina waiting anxiously for her return. The woman instantly calmed her nerves, but explained in a very soft, yet clear, voice that they could not stay here any longer. She was to pick her three favourite dresses and Ileana would pack them away. She also instructed the girl to get a good night's rest, because she was not sure when they would get it again if they made a successful escape.

Where would she go? Ileana had no idea. However, a large part of her envisioned escaping all the way to England, where she might be able to find some distant relations and stay with them until she figured everything out. Regardless, she had to keep herself calm for the rest of the night. She knew Dracula could hear her heartbeat through the walls, and if she was too excited, and he had not really left, he might come and investigate the change in her demeanour. So, as usual, she read Madalina a story before bed, and within the hour the girl was asleep. Ileana packed up their clothing and whatever goods she considered important into a rather large sac in their room. Whatever else they needed in the morning she would grab on their way out. As she lay in bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling while Madalina breathed evenly in the small cot next to her, Ileana realized that she was not completely alone out here. Although she had not seen the Prince Velkan in nearly a year, he had been kind to her the few times they had spoken. Perhaps she could call on his help once more?

Tomorrow was full of possibilities, and yet as Ileana lay there, she couldn't help herself from weeping again over the night's revelations.


	21. Black Sea

Ileana woke when the sun rose. She had forgotten to close her curtains, as she had grown accustomed to dreary, gray mornings. However, when the sun shone brightly that morning, it felt like everything positive and good in this world was dragging her from her slumber to flee. The first thing she did after dressing herself was check to entire castle for Dracula's presence. He hadn't stayed the night, and with all the sun filling the hallways, she was quite sure he wasn't lurking around in non-existent shadows. Igor was sound asleep when she checked on him, but just to be safe, she barricaded his door shut on the outside with some the lab equipment that was no longer functional. Although he could probably get out of there in a matter of ten minutes or so, she still wanted some time leniency. The man usually awoke an hour or two later than the current time, so Ileana figured she still had time to spare. However, all precautionary measures needed to be taken. She permitted Madalina to sleep while she readied their travel supplies. For now, she filled two sacks with food items, both of which could hang on either side of Mercy with ease, and be carried by foot if necessary. The woman picked the essentials needed for survival, while also raiding all stashes of money within the castle. Their own food would only get them so far, and she had no valuable gems or jewellery to sell if she needed to barter, so money would be their sole currency for the time being.

When she had gathered her supplies, Ileana quickly got Mercy ready. The mare was slightly displeased to be dragged from her warm stall so early in the morning, but once the saddle was on her back, she seemed in a more tolerable mood. After that, all she needed was Madalina. Her run up to their shared bedroom in the tower was the fastest she had ever gone, and within twenty minutes she had Madalina awake (relatively, anyway), dressed, food in her hands, and dragged down to the courtyard. She understood that they could not stay in the castle, though Ileana ignored her more prying questions as she set her up on the saddle in front of her. When she urged Mercy into a canter, the girl silenced herself, and remained silent throughout their ride toward their village. It was a glorious day outside, despite the several feet of snow that covered the earth. A path had been cleared, only slightly, that Ileana took with Mercy to spare her as much cold as she could. Although the sun was bright, the air was horribly cold still, and she prayed that her thick winter cloaks would be enough to keep them both warm on this journey.

The travellers passed through the village gates in the early hours of the morning, perhaps an hour after Ileana began her own. She had never been to Velkan's home before, but judging by the grandiosity of the house on the hill, she could only assume that that one belonged to the prince and his family. Without hesitation, Ileana urged Mercy toward it, a little saddened that this would be the end of their time together. She couldn't leave the horse at the castle for Dracula to find, and felt that Velkan might be able to use her in the future. Otherwise, he could sell her to a farmer somewhere, and Ileana envisioned her living out the rest of her life on a pastor somewhere, contently munching on grasses in the summers, and somewhere warm in the winter. The guards kindly permitted her entrance into the manor's courtyard, where she was greeted by a weary pageboy. Clearly she did not look like enough of a threat to keep out, nor was she dressed as some village peasant. Very few would have such an elegant horse, which was another unfortunate reason she would have to abandon Mercy before they set out.

"I need to see Prince Velkan immediately," she informed the boy, who looked no older than eleven, at best. "Please tell him Ileana is here… from the castle."

The boy stared at her for a moment, and she suddenly became aware that he may not actually understand English. Perhaps only the nobility were fortunate enough to be educated in such a language. However, the confusion did not last for long. Before Ileana could attempt to translate the sentence, Madalina spoke, her soprano voice very clear in the vacant courtyard. The servant still seemed uneasy, but at least he understood what he had been told this time, and left in a run.

"Thank you," Ileana murmured as she slid off Mercy. Madalina shrugged, but before she could say anything further, the doors of the manor were flung open, and she saw a somewhat sloppily dressed Velkan hurry out.

"Ileana!" he greeted, his face full of correctly placed concern, "Are you all right? Did something happen?"

She stared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she simply hugged the man. It was so incredibly personal, she knew, and perhaps a little inappropriate, but the woman could barely contain her joy over seeing someone other than Dracula and Igor. He seemed momentarily stunned, but it wore off, and she felt him rub her back soothingly.

"So many things have happened, Velkan," Ileana explained as she pulled away, "and I can't even begin to describe the horrors-"

"Do you know what he is then?" the man asked plainly. Ileana arched an eyebrow.

"He's… He's foul, and I-"

"He's a demon."

Ileana blinked at him stupidly, and then cleared her throat, "I would definitely put it that way…"

"I speak literally," Velkan insisted, and at that moment she realized that she had been the only one who was painfully unaware of Dracula's true nature. She almost hated that way that Velkan had that look of pity in his eye as he squeezed her arm, "He's a master at manipulating people. After all, he's been practicing for centuries, with the Devil whispering in his ear."

"I felt so foolish," she told him with a shake of her head. "He murdered my uncle when the… the village stormed our castle."

He sighed, and then led her away from Mercy and Madalina, "I am sorry about to hear that. I am also sorry for the villagers… they were led by someone other than the Valerious family that night, and we still have not found the culprit."

"I try not to think about it… I still stayed in the castle. I couldn't leave."

"He does that to many women."

"So I've discovered," she muttered irritably. Not wanting to waste anymore daylight hours, she turned to him and took his hand, "You've always been so kind to me. I must flee the castle before he returns with Madalina. I would like you to take my horse, Mercy, and keep her looked after. I couldn't stand the thought of leaving her back there…"

"She is a beautiful horse," Velkan admitted as he looked her over, "but how will you escape with no horse?"

"We will go by foot from here," Ileana explained, "and walk to the coast. From there-"

Before she could finish, the man burst out into fits of laughter. She glared at him, slightly taken back by the brash behaviour, and he shook his head, "I don't meant to trivialize your plight, but you cannot walk to the coast. It would take at least three days, and Dracula would have found you by nightfall."

"I know it seems unlikely, but I won't leave one of my closest companions alone to fend for herself," she insisted firmly, all the while ignoring the look he gave her, "and I know she's just a horse, but I just… I can't let anything happen to her."

"And I won't let anything happen to you," he said, beckoning his pageboy closer. He whispered something in the boy's ear, and the lad ran off like a whip across the courtyard. "I will take you to the coast today, by carriage. Our horses are some of the fastest in the country, and I will personally see you get onto whichever ship you choose safely. No more demons, Ileana."

Her eyes watered, touched at the kindness of a man who barely knew her. With such generosity, she could hardly tell him to not bother. So, she helped Madalina off from Mercy, and the two watched as Velkan and some other servants hastily pulled together a carriage. When it emerged from some unknown corner of the courtyard, Ileana was shocked by the sheer size of it. She had thought that Dracula's transportation was quite large, but this was ridiculous. The horses were also quite a good deal bigger than any horse she had ever seen, and made Mercy seem miniscule by comparison. She said her farewells to Mercy privately after the pageboy set her up in one of the barn stalls behind the property. It was solemn, at best, and Mercy stood still for a long time to allow Ileana to stroke her nose and face tenderly in an embrace. She couldn't quite understand why it was so difficult to leave the beast behind, but her eyes watered when she finally walked away, and she realized she was abandoning one of her closest companions who had never once hurt her or caused her pain.

When she returned to the carriage, Velkan was lifting Madalina inside gently while some servants locked their bags in the back compartment. She drew her thick hood around her face as the wind swirled angrily through the courtyard, wisps of snow flying about.

"Where did you find her?" Velkan inquired after he shut the door to the contraption, "She's local."

"She was begging in the forest," Ileana explained as he drew closer to her. "I couldn't just leave her there… She's been living with me while I teach her English and such."

"You have a big heart, Ileana."

"Perhaps too big," she sighed, arms folded across her chest. "I fell in love with Dracula so easily…"

He cleared his throat and looked away, and Ileana could tell he was judging her. However, when he looked back, she frowned when she spotted the pity etched so plainly across his face.

"He is to blame, not you."

"We are all accountable for our mistakes," she insisted firmly, "and we must find a way to right them. This is my way…"

They stood together silently for some time, watching Velkan's servants as they ensured that the horses were secure, and the final touches to the carriage were sufficient. Although she wasn't sure why, she felt the need to tell Velkan of the recent events.

"He asked me to marry him," she said suddenly, which earned her a concerned look from her companion. "I was so close to accepting… until I met his other wives."

The corners of his lips quirked upward, "Ah yes, the she-devils of the realm... Nasty creatures, all three of them... Any soul caught in their grasp faces an eternity of torment, so they say."

Ileana nodded, "I can imagine it."

"You are lucky to be free then," he stated as he placed a hand on her back. "But if we are to reach the docks and have you away by nightfall, we must leave now. For safety, it would be best if you sat inside… My men and I will take the outside of the carriage."

She nodded once more, and then struggled slightly in her thick cloak to get up into the massive carriage. His hand was on her lower back as he helped her in, and Ileana settled into the seat across from Madalina. The little girl seemed much more alert now that she had the proper amount of time to wake up, and was even poking her head in the window to study the courtyard, the red velvet curtain pushed to the side.

"For your own good, keep the windows covered," Velkan insisted. Ileana nodded and quickly pulled the curtain shut, shooting Madalina a look. The little girl sat back in her seat silently, looking slightly put out to have been told off by the older man. Ileana settled into the plush spot beside her, an arm over the top of the cushy bench, and gave Velkan a nod, one that he returned. With that, he shut the door, and she heard a distinctive sound of a lock clicking on the other side. For some reason, that made her feel a little safer when she felt the carriage jolt forward. Even though someone could still attack the carriage if they wished, she couldn't help but feel oddly secure nestled inside it with Madalina. With Velkan on guard, the door locked, and the pounding hooves of the horses thundering along the road, Ileana felt the best she had all morning. Perhaps it was because she had expected them to walk all the way to the coast, and perhaps she was so touched at Velkan's selflessness… Who knew, but Ileana could barely keep a smile from her face.

She had never done anything like this before. Never had she made such a decision by herself, one that could have such huge repercussions for herself and someone else. Everything had been decided by someone else in her past. It was finally time that she learned to be a big girl. If she wanted to be a grown up, then this was what she needed to do to ensure that she was no longer a child. A child was someone who relied on an adult to do _everything_ for them, and while she accepted the aid from a friend, all of this was by her own doing. Besides, she had someone else to look after now. If she didn't care for her own safety, so be it, but she couldn't allow such an innocent little girl to be surrounded by so many foul creatures. Therefore, while Madalina wasn't one of the main reasons that Ileana fled Dracula's grasp, she was a fairly large contributing factor.

Madalina slept for nearly the entire ride with her head on Ileana's lap. It was fairly easy to understand her reasons; she hadn't slept much the night before, was woken up early this morning, and the carriage had a soothing feel as it rocked back and forth on the winter roads. Ileana remained vigilant, listening only to the sound of hooves pounding outside. For once, there were no howls, or demonic cries to pervade her while she sat in silence. No, as they rode away, she felt a weight lift from her. Naturally, they were still a very long way away from completing their escape, but this was exactly the start they needed to really get going.

They traveled nearly the entire day, and both she and Velkan realized that it would have taken her much, much longer to walk. In fact, the only time they stopped – aside from five or ten minute breaks for the horses – was when they had to pass into the Russian Empire briefly to reach the harbour city on the Black Sea. It was only done to save some time, and Velkan explained if he didn't need to cross the border, he wouldn't have. Apparently, there was a ship that would take them from the Black Sea out the Mediterranean through the Ottoman's Bosporus Canal. It was going to be a tedious journey, but Ileana was willing to make the trek to potentially save her life.

As night began to creep into the sky, the carriage arrived at the harbour, and Ileana quickly ushered Madalina out. Velkan left them momentarily to arrange tickets and pay their fees, despite Ileana's protests that she had some money to put forward. He barely gave her offer a consideration, and left them before she could argue anything further. Instead, she watched as the servant who came along, one that was particularly well armed, unloaded their bags. She thanked the man in Romanian, which he seemed to appreciate, and Madalina mumbled something too when she nudged the blonde. It took Velkan nearly a half an hour to sort out their passage, but when he returned, he was all smiles.

"A relative of mine owns the ship that you'll be traveling on," he explained somewhat breathlessly as he handed her a pair of yellow tickets. "I've managed to get you a private room near the captain's quarters, and meals are included in the price."

"Let me pay you something…" Ileana insisted, but he carefully placed a hand on hers and pushed it back toward her.

"Please, it's my gift to you."

"But… But why?" Ileana whispered, stepping closer so Madalina couldn't hear, "I mean, Velkan, we barely know one another. How can you do so much for me?"

He gripped her hand reassuringly, "My family and I will do _anything_ to help people free themselves of Dracula… We have tried for centuries to destroy him, but have failed… This… I feel like this is the first victory we've had over him in a very long time. Please let me do it."

She nodded, and then leaned up and placed a very chaste kiss on his cheek, "I will repay you one day, I promise."

With a grin, he replied, "Looking forward to it, my friend."

* * *

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Dracula hadn't exactly been planning his wedding to Ileana for a long time, but none of the other proposals had gone like this. Well, Marishka and Aleera had an inkling what was coming, but only because they were sisters. Verona was the only one who had no surprises awaiting her when she agreed to be his bride. At the time, she knew full well what he was, and when she accepted his proposal, it was to be a bride for eternity. The dark-haired beauty knew precisely what she was getting into. The others… well, he was so very good at easing them into everything that when the time came to turn them and introduce them to their new sisters, they were eager. Perhaps it was because that was a different time in the world, and it was much more commonplace for a man to have a multitude of wives… but Ileana really wasn't keen on the idea at all, and he knew that was going to be the case. Therefore, he wanted to slowly introduce her to everything new. He felt like the effort would be worth it. She was attractive in all her naivety, yet could challenge any man intellectually without flinching. Dracula had full confidence that she would make a good vampire, mother, and companion to have by his side as he tackled the human world.

Now, while he adored his wives, he was absolutely furious with them. They had gone against his commands completely, and could have ruined his chances with his potential fourth bride. Once he began a conquest, he couldn't simply give up, and it infuriated him that he would have to double back on all the progress he had made lately because his girls couldn't wait two days to see Ileana. Both Aleera and Marishka were quite excited at the prospect of having a new bride, while Verona remained silent on the issue. She was displeased, no doubt, to add another young vampire to the family that was not a child, but he was sure she would come to realize why he chose Ileana in time. While he valued her approval, he did not actively seek it.

Now, he knew he needed to let Ileana simmer for a little while. She had so many feelings, and expressed them more passionately at times than any woman he had met before. Therefore, Dracula had to be sensitive in this very delicate time, or he might lose her for good. Not physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally she could check out, and he would never get her back. So, when she requested that she have a brilliant sunny day after the disastrous night, Dracula was more than willing to grant her wish. He pushed hard for all the clouds in the sky to depart from the village, and when he was sure it was deathly bright outside, he returned to his coffin to rest for the day. He might have been powerful, but controlling the weather, especially good weather, was draining.

He emerged shortly after sunset, and after giving his two younger brides another slightly harsh glare, he set off to Castle Frankenstein to check on Ileana. He arrived through the magical portal that connected the two castles between his private chambers, and quickly dusted his jacket off. It may have been magical, but he somehow managed to get little bits of rock everywhere every time he used it. With a slight roll of his eyes, he stalked across the room to a drawer, and then pulled out a small box. He had been saving the rather extravagant pendant he purchased her for another day, but perhaps it was going to be more than necessary to cement his apology. Tucking it neatly into his pocket, he departed from his chambers and first checked the kitchen. Usually, this would be the time Ileana would start making Madalina's dinner for the evening. He frowned when he found it empty. Perhaps they were studying late tonight?

He strolled down the corridor of the bottom floor, glancing outside quickly to see if they were having another snowball fight. Also empty. His frown deepened when he discovered that Victor's old office was vacant, and he then realized that everything in the castle was oddly still. Usually, even when the two girls were elsewhere, he could still faintly hear them walking about, or the excited heartbeat of one of them. However, he heard nothing. Actually, no, that was a lie… He did hear… something. He stormed through the laboratory to Igor's room, only to find furniture pushed up against the door. The vampire tossed it aside with ease, and when he ripped open the door, he heard his servant shudder fearfully from the corner of the room.

"Where is she?" he demanded savagely, flying across the room with such speed that he could have crushed the disfigured man if he wished. Igor whimpered beneath him, muttering that he had no idea where they were, or why he had been locked in his room. Dracula snarled angrily and released him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the entire castle, trying to focus on any human sounds. The only ones he could pick up were that of his hideous servant beside him. Otherwise, the castle was essentially silent. His lip twitched, and in an instant he was gone, racing through the castle corridors and stairwells up to Ileana's room. The door was flung open on his arrival, and it only took him a few moments to realize she had packed up her essentials. There would be no reason for doing that unless she had departed. He released a horrible yell, one that made the windows shake, and within seconds he burst through them in his creature form, taking flight across the night's sky. His rage flowed uncontrollably, and suddenly the winds picked up, and he could feel a storm brewing in the air. Did she think she could just leave him after everything? No final word, no nothing? While her naivety was attractive, it was also painfully frustrating. A lesson needed to be taught before she became his wife. She truly needed to be broken.


	22. Storm

_Devon lies beyond this portal_

_Take the words of one immortal_

Inside the Fire – Disturbed

Although Ileana had taken a ship to get to Romania – well, a ship and a train, but that's not the point – she had never realized how horrible the water could get. It seemed the moment that she and Madalina settled into their plush cabin below deck, a storm picked up outside. The water was pitch black, and lapped at the wooden panels of the vessel angrily as winds threatened to send ice pellets through the mast. Because she was there as Velkan's guest, she was treated as an upper-class citizen, which meant she was informed every ten minutes of the situation that the ship was in. It wasn't necessary, but Ileana appreciated the effort made all the same. Eventually, perhaps an hour or more later, the captain paid her a visit. He informed her that they would attempt to make it down to the Bosporus, but if they could not, they would dock at a harbour village and put all the passengers in a hostel until the storm settled. That seemed perfectly reasonable. Ileana agreed to it because the captain was paying for everyone's lodgings, and she wouldn't be in a foreign place with unfamiliar people.

Mind you, they were all unfamiliar. The captain was only speaking to her because she knew Velkan, who was related to the man who owned the ship. However, she wasn't one to complain in a situation like this, though she wished she could conjure more Romanian to have an intelligent conversation with the man. Luckily, Madalina had enough vocabulary in her, and together they managed to come across as smarter than the average traveler. Unfortunately, no amount of brain power could spare the two from being thrown back and forth around their room when they finally left port. Ileana eventually managed to tie herself to the bedpost, her arms wrapped around Madalina, and held on for dear life. Thankfully, the majority of the large furniture was permanently set to the floor, so they wouldn't have to worry about being crushed by a rogue chair. However, their bags were a lost cause from the start, and Ileana told Madalina they would just have to wait until the ship evened out before they could collect their belongings.

Unfortunately, after nearly two hours of the rocking, Ileana was informed they would be docking somewhere for the rest of the night. They were docking in a city called Mangalia to wait out the storm. It took them some time to settle into the dock and unload the passengers. By the time Ileana arrived at the small inn they were going to use for the night, she was completely soaked. Most of her luggage was drenched too, and Madalina whined the entire time about the cold. It was a horrible mixture of snow, rain and hail outside, and although the inn was a little dreary at first glance, Ileana was just happy to be on dry land and out of the wind. The captain and his crew saw to their lodgings, and Ileana ushered Madalina up the thick staircase to the second floor of the small inn once they were given their room keys. It seemed like an inn of quality, thankfully. There was a large bar and mess area on the first floor, along with some sort of reception desk. The majority of the rooms were upstairs, while the owners of the inn had three rooms behind the bar for the family.

She hadn't spoken to any of the other passengers on the boat, and was more concerned with getting Madalina into warm clothes with some food in her stomach. Their room had two small beds in it, and a fireplace that was already lit upon their arrival. So, the first thing Ileana did was lay their necessary items of clothing out in front of the heat to dry, and then wrapped Madalina up in the thick comforter before setting _her_ in front of the fireplace. Without bothering with herself, Ileana then went to fetch them a hot meal, locking Madalina in the room for safety. The cooks were serving some broth to the stranded travelers when she arrived in the mess hall, and she carefully carried two bowls back up to their room for the pair to snack on. When they had finished, Ileana picked some of the less damp clothes and dressed Madalina back up, and only then did she change out of her own wet rags into something a little warmer. Ileana wanted to do something that would help Madalina take her mind off of all this, but when she suggested they do a section of history, preferably on the Ottoman Empire since they would theoretically pass through the channel soon, both were put off by the idea of studying in such a dimly lit little room.

Instead, she offered to read Madalina a story before bed, which the girl readily accepted. After the two snuggled into the somewhat hard bed, Ileana retrieved a small paperback novel that she had been using to teach Madalina English. However, instead of making the little girl read like she usually did, Ileana took over, her companion snuggled into her side with her small eyes following each word as it was read aloud. They were simple English fairy-tales that her uncle had read to her as a child, and Madalina always enjoyed reading them before bed. She figured it had a calming effect on the girl, just as it had on her as a child away from home.

"Ileana," Madalina said suddenly, putting a hand on the page before she could turn it. Ileana arched an eyebrow, and wondered if she didn't understand something, but instead the little blonde inquired, "Why are we here?"

She laughed weakly, and then brushed some of the girl's damp hair away from her forehead, "You know why… The storm was too bad to sail through."

"I mean… Why did we have to leave?"

Ileana frowned, "I told you. The Count was not nice to me, and I don't think we were safe there anymore."

"Oh…" she trailed off, "He always bought me pretty things."

"Yes," Ileana sighed. "He was very good at that."

The little girl stared at the book, and Ileana could tell she was upset with the turn of events. This had to be because she didn't understand the full story, and Ileana wasn't about to try and explain it. Maybe one day, when they were older and all of this was behind them, she would sit the little blonde down and explain all the horrors that made up Dracula. For now, she could go on the assumption that he was a bad man, and that would be that.

She decided that it was time to call it a night for Madalina. She had little bags starting to form under her eyes, and despite the fact she had done a lot of sleeping since they left the castle, Ileana had a sinking suspicion they were starting to form from stress. Therefore, one of the best remedies for the body was to put it to sleep to let it repair. With the fire keeping the room lit just enough to make it cozy, Ileana was quite confident that the little girl would have no problem falling asleep. She tucked her in snugly, even borrowed a pillow from another room that only had one occupant, and stroked her hair until she fell asleep. As a girl, she always wished someone would stroke her hair to soothe her into slumber. While her uncle was affectionate, he never seemed to want to overstep his boundaries and become the true father figure she needed.

When she was sure Madalina had drifted off to sleep, she threw a cloak over her shoulders and left, locking the door again to ensure the girl's safety. They had nothing of value to steal aside from money, but she didn't want someone snooping around in her room while she was gone, no matter what valuables she may possess. Although she didn't particularly want to go hang out by the bar, Ileana didn't feel like being cooped up in the room all night. She was tired, yes, but not to the point of exhaustion, and she didn't want to lay awake for a while thinking about the man she escaped from.

She hadn't given Dracula too much of a thought since she left, mostly because she was actively trying to block him from her head. Unfortunately, with the storm that seemed to follow her from the village out to sea hot on her trail, she felt like he was lurking somewhere nearby. However, she had a feeling he would get over her absence quickly, and find a new girl to replace her with. After all, there were plenty of pretty young women in Romania to pick from, and she was quite sure, as much as it hurt to think, that he could have his way with any of them, just as he had done with her. Her eyes flickered toward the windows as she walked past them, and she could have sworn she saw lightning flash over the angry seas. If this didn't let up, they were going to be stuck here for a while. The longer she was on Romanian soil, the more stressed out she could feel herself becoming.

So, in order to take the edge off, she decided she would have one drink. Nothing strong, but something that might make her feel a little more at ease in her current situation. Even if it wasn't an overly potent, she had the willpower at the moment to believe that any drop of alcohol would appease her overly stimulated system, and that was really the first step. So, she marched down to the busy bar, now full of passengers and crew members, along with other people from the town (or so she assumed), and managed to find a seat squished at the very end of the bar. She pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders as a bar of men burst out laughing beside her, sloshing their ale onto the floor. With a frown, Ileana turned away from them slightly, and sought out the bartender.

The moment she made eye contact with the man tending to the thirsty patrons, she arched an eyebrow, recognition suddenly ringing in her head. There was definitely something familiar about the man, though she couldn't quite place where she knew his face. Had he been one of the men to deliver food to her house at some point? She knew their interactions had been fleeting, but she still couldn't quite place his face. He made eye contact with her through a set of blue eyes, and a moment later he was in front of her, the same quizzical expression on his face.

"I feel as though I know you," he told her, his British accent startling her, and she suddenly realized exactly who he was.

"Hector!" she nearly cried, her eyes wide, "My God! What are you doing here?"

And bartending, at that. He stared at her for a moment, and suddenly a similar expression of recognition crossed his face, "Ileana! I could ask the same of you! How are you?"

"I'm… I'm…" she started, and sighed, "I'm doing all right."

"Give me a moment," he explained, holding up a finger, "because no one sits here at the bar alone in your condition if they're all right. One moment."

She nodded, curious about what he meant about her "condition". With a glance down, she wasn't aware that she looked homely or out of place. Perhaps it was because she was here by herself, on a horribly rainy night and a good set of bags starting to form under her eyes. Shaking her head, Ileana decided there was nothing wrong with her, and he must have just been imagining things. Or unable to see; the bar was pretty dark, considering the amount of torches lit. Suddenly, Hector was beside her, and she saw the same man she had seen so many months ago. He looked hopeful, like the bright young scientist she remembered who had tried for Igor's spot in the castle. As he took her hand and led her to a quieter table near the periphery of the bar, she wondered what life would have been like had he stayed.

They had a connection at the time. It wasn't anything meaningful, considering they spent all of ten minutes together, but he was the first real man to give her any significant attention. After all, he had asked her to come explore the village with him on his last few days in the area, and had Dracula not interfered, she would have. Maybe, if he had gotten the assistant position, the two of them would have fallen in love, instead of Ileana and Dracula, and maybe everything might have been just a little bit different. Maybe she could have had another ally, rather than an indignant traitor.

"I've got a friend to cover my post for a while," he explained as he pulled out her chair for her. "Now tell me… How did you end up here?"

"You first," she insisted as she leaned across the table to hear him better. "I think yours will be a more interesting story."

"Well," Hector started, scratching the back of his head, "I don't think there's much too it. I left your home to spend a few days in the village, and when I woke up the next morning, I was in the middle of the forest."

Ileana gasped, "That's awful!"

"Yes… It was," he sighed, "but the worst part was that I had no idea where I was. I ended up walking aimlessly for about two days, eating leaves and dirt… but I eventually found myself a town, and bartered a ride down here."

"And you just… decided to stay here?" Ileana inquired, raising her eyebrows, "Not that I'm intentionally insulting your… your new profession, but-"

"No, no, I would never think you were," he laughed, his eyes warm. "By the time I got here, I had spent all the money I planned on using to pay for a ship home. I had nowhere to go, and I barely speak the language… I was lucky enough to find this tavern keeper who let me wash dishes for a little bit of money. I think his daughter fancied me a bit… I ended up getting my board covered for a few months while I earned some money. I also work at the blacksmith… You'd be surprised with what a knowledge of chemistry can do for melting things and re-welding them."

"That all sounds so… so outrageous," Ileana managed. "Did you ever figure out who put you in the woods?"

"No…" he replied with a shrug, "I'm not exactly willing to go back and find out, you know? Clearly the townsfolk didn't want me there."

She nodded, but a part of her had a feeling it wasn't the townsfolk that removed Hector from the village. If she recalled correctly, Dracula had been extremely distant at the time, and she wondered if he was already plotting to win over Ileana's affections at that point. Had he deliberately gotten rid of his one potential rival? The thought was upsetting, and she couldn't stand the notion that Dracula had been plotting for her love a week into their relationship.

"But tell me about you!" he said quickly, perhaps noticing the way she drifted off into thought, "Why have you left home? How is your uncle?"

"Dead," she said without missing a beat, "and that's one of the reasons I left."

"I… I'm so sorry, Ileana," he murmured, reaching across the table to give her hand a squeeze. "How did he die?"

"You remember the Count?"

"Oh yes," he chuckled weakly, the corners of his mouth quirking up only a little. "Yes, he didn't like me very much, did he?"

"He killed my uncle," she informed him as she stared down at the table. "Once we finished our work, he killed him. I've only just escaped."

"My God," he breathed as he slid his chair around the small circular table. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she smiled faintly at the attempted comfort. The man, like Velkan, barely knew her, and yet here he was willing to try to make her feel less awful inside. They sat together in silence for some time. How were you supposed to react to that? She felt bad that she had put him in that sort of situation, but in all honesty, Ileana was sick of lying to herself. After all, she had lied to herself for a few months while her feelings for Dracula began to grow again. The more she said it aloud, the more she forced herself to remember what the demon was truly capable of, and just how horribly he had hurt her.

The silence was nice, but the fact that she had someone to share it with was even better. After some time passed, Hector returned to the bar and got them both a bottle of some sort of alcohol. They toasted to Victor, and then to scientific research, and then finally to freedom. That was the extent of their talking. For at least an hour, he sat with her in silence while she slowly nursed her drink. The pair were people watching, and there were enough characters in the bar to keep them mildly interested. Nothing in her drink was strong enough to get her drunk, but it made her stomach feel warm inside, and like Hector's presence, it was comforting.

One face seemed to stick with her more than anyone else, unfortunately. She had seen the figure at a distance a little earlier, but hadn't paid him any attention. However, when she did what felt like her hundredth sweep of the room, she noticed him again. Dark eyes, dark hair, and deathly white skin amongst the crowd of already pale, though slightly flushed from the drink, men. He was calm, steadfast in the sea of other men as they stumbled about, laughed, sang, and began dancing after a few tables had been knocked over. Her entire being wanted to ignore him, and it screamed that it couldn't possibly be Dracula. He couldn't have found her this quickly. He just… couldn't. Unfortunately, when the man rose to his feet from his chair across the room and began his meandering march over to her, it became all too clear that Dracula had indeed somehow managed to find her. Like always, the storm must have followed him here, and he had followed her.

"Just going to the loo," Ileana explained briskly as she too rose from her chair, and then without really thinking, dashed for the exit. She vaguely heard Hector shout that it wasn't in that direction, but before he could stop her, she was outside in the raging storm. The wind pounded against her small figure so terribly that she could barely walk, but she somehow managed to get around the building, drink still in hand. She hadn't managed to let it go. A terrifying bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and Ileana shrieked with the thunder when she saw Dracula before her, deadpan as he stared her down. Ileana darted around him and stumbled down the small hill along the side of the building, and then scurried around another corner. He could have caught her if he really wanted to, and at that moment she knew he was going to punish her for leaving the way she did.

Taking initiative for her safety, for once, Ileana dropped her glass bottle on the ground, allowing it to shatter, and then quickly squished a few of the larger chunks beneath her shoes. She then gathered the small, sharp shards in one hand as bits of ice, snow and rain pounded against her. Thunder rumbled dangerously again as she took off running, slipping here and there on particularly icy patches, only to have herself stopped when Dracula snatched her by the crook of her elbow. Instead of resisting, Ileana let him whip her back into his body in order to reach up quickly and grind shards of glass into his eyes. The vampire cried out, no doubt in shock rather than pain, and Ileana managed to slip away from him momentarily. However, her victory was short-lived, and she soon found herself being slammed cruelly into the side of the building.

"Stop!" she shouted, half begging as he pinned her arms to her body. He paid her pleas no attention, and before she could say anything further, she felt something like sharp, thin spears pierce the skin on her neck. He was killing her. He was going to murder her right here like he had done her uncle. She screamed again, but what little sound came out was overshadowed by the catastrophic thunder and lightning that had taken over the night skies.


	23. Dangerous

_Under haunted skies I see you,  
Where love is lost, your ghost is found,  
I braved a hundred storms to leave you,  
As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down_

_Turning Tables – Adele_

When Ileana awoke, everything felt hard. Her eyes were closed, and yet she felt her body atop a solid stone surface. She felt stiff, as one would feel after having slept in a deep slumber, during which one does not move or turn. There was no pain in her neck. She recalled the events before her world succumbed to darkness, and her last fleeting thoughts were that she would be reunited with her uncle momentarily. She had felt the pain he did when he died, and it was excruciating. Burning, stinging, tearing… Ileana had never endured such sensations before, but thankfully all the intense feelings only occurred for a few lingering moments. Once the darkness took over, her body and mind disconnected, and soon there was nothing. As she lay wherever she was, the woman realized that as she suffered, there were no thoughts of how she would feel once she returned to consciousness. She had assumed, at that very moment, the end had come.

So imagine her surprise when she became aware once more of her physical being. Her mind raced the second she regained consciousness, and it was as though she had been brought out of a good sleep. Gingerly, she flexed her fingers, and then her toes, pleased that she had movement in all of them. However, her eyes remained closed as she did so, too afraid to face the new reality, and too distraught at the idea of waking up in a spirit world. Was she ready for this? Was there a transition between the earth and Heaven, a place of judgement like the church-goers professed? Eyes still closed, she reached up and felt her body. Her clothes had been changed; the material was thin, perhaps a dressing gown at best. The body beneath the material felt solid. As she pushed gently on her stomach, she felt no indent or pressure, and she pondered momentarily if she had been turned to stone. Her bare skin was cool to the touch, but if she was long dead and in a spirit world, it certainly made sense.

Ileana inhaled deeply, only after she realized she had not felt the steady rise and fall of her chest. She hadn't been breathing at all, actually. Each breath she took seemed forced, as though she needed to make an effort to do it. However, when she stopped, and placed a hand on her chest, she noticed that without that rise and fall, she continued to exist. There was no faint feeling when she did not breathe, but rather a neutral existence of one that did not require any bodily functions to endure. He had killed her. Dracula had stolen her life, and sent her away from the earth. For all her years of science, she had been so ingrained in her own teachings that she never took to one of religion. Perhaps she should have. Perhaps her soul was in need of saving, but she was too illogical in these matters to ask for help.

With a groan, she allowed her head to loll lazily to the side, and finally she opened her eyes. The room was dark, though she could see each feature clearly. The walls were made of grey cobblestone, and they had a torch placed here and there. Otherwise, the room was empty, save the slab of hard rock she was placed on. Blinking a few times, she rolled her head to the other side, and it was there she spotted a large iron gate, one which she assumed was a door of some kind. Perhaps the gates to Hell? Or those of St. Peter's? With the life she had led in the recent year, she could have really been sentenced to either one.

She heard faint footsteps approaching the arched doorway, and she stared at it unblinkingly. Was this her judge approaching? A shadowy figure appeared suddenly, and as they drew closer, Ileana recognized who it was. Without a second thought, a tear rolled down her cheek, immediate sadness washing over her. Dracula, the same as ever, stepped into the room soundlessly, and closed the gate behind him. He had no jarring movements this time, and her eyes could track him plainly. The vampire approached her slowly, and stopped about five feet from her body, dark eyes boring into hers.

"Have you followed me to Hell?" she inquired, her voice raspy from a clear lack of use. It had to be Hell. A creature like Dracula would never be welcome in the Kingdom of God. His lip twitched at her sentiment.

"I have brought you to my Hell," he replied, his voice clear in the empty room, each syllable dancing in Ileana's ears as they had never done before. "How do you feel?"

She sat up on her elbow and looked herself over. Her suspicions had been correct; her clothing had been swapped for a somewhat loose white buttoned shirt, one that could surely be seen through in the right light. A hand feathered her hair lightly, and she noticed it felt much coarser than it had ever felt before. Her eyes returned to him slowly, and she cocked her head to the side, "I feel like stone."

"You are like stone," he remarked quickly, sweeping toward her and placing his hands on either side of her face. She let him without a fight, and for a very long moment he studied her, his face very close to hers. It was after that she couldn't stand the feel of his cold hands against her equally cold skin, and Ileana sat up fully.

"Where am I?"

"My private castle, between the human world and the Devil's," Dracula explained carefully. "I brought you here to heal."

Purgatory, perhaps.

She frowned, the first real facial expression since she had awoken, "Have you killed me? Am I facing judgement?"

"My love," he whispered, his voice caressing her in a way that made her whole being weak, "I have taken your life, yes."

Ileana exhaled sharply, looking away from him as a few more tears drifted down her cheeks. Dracula clucked his tongue at her, as though scolding a child, and then took a seat next to her on her stone slab of a bed, a hand delicately touching her back.

"But I have also given you a life," he continued, "and you will never suffer the weakness of the human form again."

Before she could stop herself, the corners of her lips curled up in a snarl, her teeth exposed. It felt as normal and natural as a glare would when she was angry, but this had happened without her even trying. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, ashamed at the animalistic reaction to rage. Her companion reached out to touch her, but she flinched away violently, her eyes flashing.

"Who are _you _to make that kind of decision for me?" she demanded as she stood up from her stone slab. Her thin dress shimmied down to cover her knees, and Ileana suddenly realized that it was a man's shirt, most likely Dracula's. All she wanted to do was rip it off, that sign of ownership, among other things he had used to rein her in. Her dark eyes glared at him, but Dracula's gaze remained fixed on the spot where she had been sitting, as though lost in thought.

"I asked you a question," Ileana spat after a near eternity of silence, a power in her chest that she had never felt before. It was a strange feeling; a part of her felt confidence and strength, and yet a part of her wanted to crawl over to him and submit. For now, the first part remained dominant, and if she could have it her way, it would continue to remain like that. The latter had been a niggling sensation ever since he joined her, but she had a sinking suspicion it was because they now shared a different, more physical connection with the sharing of his demonic disease.

His eyes finally met hers, and he shrugged his shoulders, "You were going to leave."

"I was. Can you really fault me for that?"

"I couldn't let it happen."

"That wasn't your decision to make!" she reiterated forcefully, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation, "You are horrible for me! Everything about you spells disaster!"

"Ileana-"

"No! No, don't you see? You've killed me… You've actually done it!"

"I gave you immortality!" he shouted as he leapt to his feet, his eyes illuminating in a terrifying way she had never seen before. It was so strong in her gut, in her being, that she shrank away, a hand clutching at the wall nearby, "I gave you everlasting life to do _whatever_ you want in this world! You have power no human could ever imagine, and you throw it back at me like it's a horrific thing!"

She felt her knees buckle as he glowered at her, and she settled down onto the floor, hating the way that a mere inclination in the level of his voice could nearly shatter her confidence. How could he not understand her point of view? The man had tossed away her life as though it meant nothing, and all because she had gotten the good sense to leave him? Not only was he a killer, he was a possessive, controlling, manipulative demon who clearly had no real care about her well-being. Now she was linked to him for eternity, and there was nothing she could do about it, unless she walked out into the sun, or something else as equally tragic.

He crouched down in front of her and collected her hands in his, "This is a good thing. You will find yourself a stronger and better Ileana in the long run, and I did this because I know this would have been the eventual outcome."

"Oh?" she remarked carefully, "And what gave you that impression? Was it the fact that I left, or that I've told you in numerous occasions that you're wrong for me?"

"I know because there have been more times in our past where you felt so strongly for me than not," he admitted. She blinked back her shock; that was his reasoning? Combined with his possessive irrationalities about her leaving, Ileana wasn't sure what he could do to make her loathe him any more at that given moment. That previous feeling, the longing for him, was unfortunately still present, and she felt it tug at her heartstrings whenever he got closer to her. It clouded her mind terribly, and the new vampire was quick to get up and move away before he completely ruined her resolve.

"So am I part of your harem now?" she inquired coldly, holding herself in a tight embrace as she paced around the circular stone room. He got to his feet behind her, and she heard the soft patter of his feet following in her wake.

"We are connected," Dracula explained, his hands knotted neatly behind his back, "but unlike my other _brides_ we did not marry before you were turned… and you remain a free woman."

Ileana snorted noisily at the thought of ever being free, and shot him a sceptical look. He arched an eyebrow, "I would like to think that you might give this new life with me a try before you fully embrace your freedom. A new vampire is unsure of their body, and you will need someone to teach you."

"I don't want lessons from you."

"You're in luck," he remarked coldly, "because there are three others here who can also teach you."

"I don't want-"

"This isn't something you can just figure out on your own," he sneered. "You are brilliant, Ileana, in every sense of the word, but this is nothing you have ever experienced before, and I won't let you damage yourself or someone else because of your stubbornness."

"Someone else?" she snapped, "Who else here can I actually…"

Ileana trailed off, realizing exactly who he was talking about, and a look of understanding flashed across her face, "Madalina… What did you do with her?"

"I brought her here too," Dracula replied, and before he could say anything else, Ileana took off for the door. She couldn't stand the thought of that innocent little girl here, surrounded by dead beings. No one deserved that, especially the girl she had promised to keep safe once she took her in. For once, Dracula didn't automatically appear in front of her. Instead, she heard him call her name, and then hurry off after her. He was close, but for once he didn't immediately overtake her. She paused only momentarily in a hallway, her new keen ears finding the very faint trace of a heartbeat two floors down. As she rushed through Dracula's home, she realized she was in a castle similar to the one he had given to her and her uncle those many months ago. Perhaps larger, and had she been human, she would have noticed it was much colder than her previous home.

"Ileana!"

She heard Dracula shout after her as she leapt up a stairwell, nearly four stairs at a time, but she firmly ignored his pleas for her to stop. Instead, she focused on getting to the one connection to humanity that she had, and soon found Madalina in a large chamber with the redheaded bride, Aleera. The two were playing with a ball of some sort, Madalina running around a statue as Aleera chased after her. The little blonde girl screeched playfully, the dull coloured ball clutched her chest, a wide smile on her face. Although Ileana was elated to see her, the moment she stepped into the room the only thing she could actually focus on was the way the girl's heart pounded noisily in her chest, and the smooth locomotion of her blood as it funnelled through her tiny veins. She shook her head, trying to quiet the noises, but nothing seemed to help.

The pair paused when Aleera noticed her first, and suddenly Madalina was running over to her, ball forgotten and arms outstretched.

"Ileana!" she cried happily as the young vampire swept her into a hug, "I'm so happy you're better… Everyone says you were sick! I missed you!"

As she held Madalina close to her, her nose buried against her neck, Ileana tried earnestly to speak. However, the moment she opened her mouth, her control broke. A pang in her stomach erupted, like the most painful hunger she had ever experienced, and her vision blurred. All she could see was the small pulse point on the girl's neck, tantalizing and tempting as it beckoned her to tap into the blood beneath, the thought of which made her mouth water.

The whole thing happened so quickly. Her canines elongated, and the only thought in her head was satiating her hunger. Suddenly, there was a hand on the base of her own neck, and it dragged her back gruffly, and Aleera was on Madalina moments later. The little blonde was pulled from harm's way, and her neck was replaced with Dracula's arm, which Ileana sunk her newly extended fangs into heartily. However, the taste was less than satisfying, and although the blood he gave her soothed the instantaneous pain in her stomach, the cold liquid was hardly what she craved. Once Madalina had been removed from the room, Ileana somehow managed to wrench herself free from Dracula's arm, and then pushed him away weakly.

"What have you done to me?"


	24. Animalistic Instincts

_So I won't let you close enough to hurt me_

_No I won't ask you, you to just desert me_

_I can't give you the heart you think you give me_

_Turning Tables – Adele_

Ileana wasn't allowed to be around Madalina anymore. She had no means of controlling her animalistic hunger pains, and although she selfishly wished everyone would just ignore that and let her see the small girl, she knew it was for the best. The fact that Madalina seemed genuinely terrified of her now was probably the worst part, and for that she could never forgive Dracula. Not that she could forgive him for taking her life and giving her a new one, but the fact that her only tie to humanity had no desire to be in the same room with her was devastating. Somehow, the other brides were perfectly capable of handling the little girl on their own, and Ileana watched a few days roll by in solitude. She snarled off Dracula whenever he came close enough, and ignored Aleera or Marishka whenever they came to visit. Verona seemed constantly displeased that Ileana was even around, so they had never managed a formal conversation just yet. The other two brides, however, came around in order to implore Ileana to eat something before her body began to wither. When they made the suggestion to Dracula, he began forcing her to drink from him. Naturally, he had assumed she would attempt suicide, even as a vampire, but that was hardly her intention.

Drinking blood was vile. The actual nourishment it provided her was wonderful, of course, but she couldn't stand the idea of penetrating skin in order to fulfill her nutritional needs. It actually didn't bother her to do it to Dracula, because he always winced a little when she bit down particularly hard. A part of her wondered if he did it just to entertain the notion that she was hurting him. After all, Ileana barely felt anything when she knocked into a table leg or tripped up a stone step, so she was sure Dracula couldn't physically feel anything at this point in his immortal life. This might also be because Dracula had effectively mastered this new body, while Ileana had not. Although she hardly looked any different, the world felt different. Her limbs felt stronger, longer, and thicker. Her eyesight was keen and quick to spot the slightest movement. Her hearing intensified, particularly when Madalina was nearby, and all these new senses were just so overwhelming. Coupled with her lust for blood, she found her new body a little difficult to take. According to Marishka, the youngest of the three brides, it didn't take long to adjust. Perhaps a month into her new life and she would feel as though this were normal.

Her new living quarters were especially depressing. Dracula's little world between earth and hell was… different. It seemed to just be a castle, and a deep, empty crevice surrounded all sides of it. She wondered whether or not she would reach the Devil if she fell far enough down the deep valley around the castle. Perhaps. The gap between the castle and what appeared to be the inside of a cave or mountain was a good hundred feet, at her best guess, and she was told the vampires flew in a north-eastern direction, and eventually they found themselves on the outside of a mountain range near the village. The castle itself must have been located below the village, which explained Dracula's affinity for the place.

"I don't understand," Ileana mused from her position atop a tower turret, Aleera perched precariously on a nearby ledge. "The villagers know how to kill us… but they don't ever attack you when you go to pick off one of their people?"

"Don't be silly, Ileana," Aleera clucked. The vampire bride had managed to drag her out of her funk long enough to explore the outer walls of the castle, which was architecturally impossible and unique by human standards, but no one seemed to pay them any mind here. "We are _gods_, my dear. Don't you see? We demand a sacrifice. They may know a weakness or two… silver weaponry, holy water… but don't think they would use it. They aren't _all_ the Valerious brats."

She pursed her lips together and ran her sensitive fingers along the ridges of the stone turret, "I suppose."

The redhead may believe they were gods, but Ileana had other opinions on the matter. However, since there was no escaping any of them at this point – Ileana had not, and was a little terrified to do so, mastered the art of flight yet – she figured it would be best to try to keep on good terms. While Dracula had earned her wrath, she decided, logically, the brides had done nothing wrong to also endure her ire. Ileana was civil, to the best of her abilities, and had yet to shout or curse at them, only sit in a sullen silence whenever she was too upset for pointless conversation with Aleera and Marishka. That might have been the most insulting thing she could have done to them, now that she thought about it, considering they worked so hard to make her feel as though she too was now a cherished bride of Dracula.

Although she had only been there a short time, Ileana had learned a fair amount about the brides, and it generally came from gossip from the other women. That actually might be the perk of living with so many women at one time; Ileana felt like, for the first time, she was a part of those female-only society meetings that women used as an excuse to meet outside the home and gossip. Now, Verona was the oldest of the three, and had been married to the man she supposedly loved for nearly three centuries, making her relationship with Dracula seem trivial, at best. She was quiet, determined to have children, and focused on maintaining her image as the leader of the women. Although she hadn't seen much interaction, she had a way of quieting Dracula with a look, if she wished. For all that Verona was icy, Aleera was the opposite. She was a bit of a tart, and married Dracula a full century after he had married for the first time. The vampire was blunt, coy, though a little thick, and had an unhealthy interest in Madalina. Ileana kept a watchful eye on her at all times. Finally, there was Marishka. Apparently, she and Aleera had been close friends in life, and Dracula took her as a bride only a few years after Aleera became his, and they were both overjoyed with the new addition to the 'family'. Marishka was the most immature one out of them all, always goading the other two into a spat, or pestering Dracula to come flying with her. She too was excited to have Ileana with them, and seemed genuinely interested in teaching her to fly, though Ileana declined her offers firmly over the past day or so.

Time was tedious here. There were no bouts of daylight, only darkness, and Ileana barely slept. Dracula gave her a coffin in the main chamber, one next to Aleera's, but she hadn't the heart to use it just yet. Instead, she stayed awake, wandering the hallways, chatting with the two friendlier brides, or pining after her lost human child. However, days were momentous occasions. They seemed to drag on forever, particularly with no light to tell the difference between the hours, and just a few days had already felt like a week in her new skin. With the momentous hunger mounting in the depths of her being, she wasn't sure how long she could stand these lengthy days without losing some, if not all, of her sanity.

Suddenly, a dark cry broke through the still air, and both Aleera and Ileana turned instinctively toward it. She recognized Dracula's call in his creature form in a human heartbeat, and she hated the fact that his presence still managed to excite her. The young vampire had to actively make herself hate him, because it was what he deserved. If she gave in, only for a moment, the animalistic urges in her would win, and she would be helpless against any sort of affection shown by her maker. Ileana also loathed the fact that she was no different than any of the other women living in this castle. They all loved him, painfully obviously, and she knew the reason both she and Aleera turned their heads at the same time was because it had been a beckoning call from Dracula. She was no different at this point.

"Come," Aleera insisted, taking Ileana's cold hand in hers and tugging her back toward the castle. "We have a gift for you."

Ileana arched an eyebrow curiously, which earned her a giggle and a coy smile in response from the redhead. They ventured down to the main hall of the fortress, which was simply a large, empty hall with a ceiling nearly two hundred feet in the air, and cobwebs everywhere. Clearly, the 'family' wasn't entertaining anyone, so none of the vampires really saw the necessity to clean. As they approached, something felt different in the air. It was… a scent. She sniffed softly, taking in the curious new fragrance for half a second before Aleera spoke.

"It smells wonderful, doesn't it?" she inquired, her voice nearly a purr. Ileana nodded, and the woman laughed, "I knew you'd like it. Are you hungry, my love?"

Ileana frowned, her body aching to be fed in a way more satisfying than Dracula's cold, dead blood, but she refused to give a straight answer. Instead, she focused on her other senses, and as they drew closer to the hall, she began to hear the sound of three beating hearts, racing so fast it almost seemed impossible. Her ears strained to hear every last sound of it, and she absently licked her lips. When they entered the main foyer area, she noticed Dracula, Marishka and Verona standing around three quivering men. Marishka eyed one of the more muscular men hungrily, and shifted her weight back and forth between her feet, no doubt eager to pounce should the opportunity arise. Verona appeared to be a little irritated, but that was nothing out of the normal. Dracula, on the other hand, had an excited gleam in his eye as she approached.

"The guest of honour has arrived!" Aleera announced, somewhat unnecessarily; it seemed that was her persona to do so. Marishka squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. One of the men whimpered and uttered something weakly in Romanian, which earned him a slap across the face from Verona.

"Gentle, my pet," Dracula cooed at her, making her expression soften a touch. "We need them to be in good form."

"What is this?" Ileana demanded, masking her desire to feast the best she could as her eyes traveled feverishly over the men. Dracula took a step forward, opening his mouth to explain, but the blonde bride of the group seemed too unable to contain herself, and spoke first.

"We brought you dinner, Ileana!" Marishka gushed, "All of them are fresh picked from some of the villages… What do you think?"

Dracula shot her a look over her shoulder, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him, ignoring the silent scolding for speaking out of turn. Ileana cocked her head to the side, "You… brought me them to… eat?"

"It was Verona's idea," Dracula explained, casually strolling toward her. "She thought you should learn to hunt."

"In case you were ever on your own," Verona informed her coldly. "You can't always feed from our master."

Ileana comprehended her underlying message in an instant; learn to hunt and get out. She wasn't a bride, so technically she wasn't connected to Dracula in any way aside from him creating her. Perhaps Verona sought more ways to get rid of her than this, but for now she decided to keep a close eye on the dark-haired vampire as well. For as much as Ileana wished to be rid of Dracula, she didn't need a jealous bride to do it for her.

One of the men on the ground began to sob, earning him a disgusted look from nearly every vampire in the room, except for Ileana. She understood their fear. They were about to die, and because she had so recently experienced that terror, there was nothing she could do for that moment but empathize. However, there was an inner battle within her over her urges; be the caring vampire she desired to be, or become the vampire that feeds her urges like she should be.

"I… I won't eat them," she said finally, her body screaming at the thought of letting all that warm, fresh blood out of her sight. "It's not right."

"It's normal, my dear," Dracula insisted. He drew closer to her as she stood perfectly still, her eyes still fixated on the men. She only barely noticed Aleera leave her side to join the other brides. "You are a creature that needs to feed… This is the only substance that will ever satisfy you."

She shook her head, "I couldn't… I couldn't be that cruel. I'm not like you."

She heard Verona scoff noisily, and the raven-haired vampire rolled her eyes, "If she can't take a gift, then she ought not to have it. Will she complain every time you go out of your way to give her something?"

"Verona," Dracula hissed sharply, curbing her attitude for now. He sighed, and then took her by the wrist, walking her slowly toward the men. If she hadn't been so distracted by the veritable feast in front of her, she might have yanked her hand back rather than let him touch her, "You will hunt when instinct takes over. For now… we will hunt together."

"I don't want to," she remarked weakly, her resolve faltering as all the hearts began to accelerate at the thought of being hunted. Dracula turned on the ball of his foot and lazily waved his hands at the brides. The three women stepped away, giving the men a shot at freedom. Dracula smiled cruelly, and then barked something in Romanian at them. A moment later, the three men scattered in different directions, two running in a similar way, but off through different doors.

"One is for my brides," he explained, mostly to her, but also directed at the other three, "so they compound their hunting skills as a team."

He emphasized the last word, and Ileana just caught Aleera rolling her eyes. He then waved them off, and the three shot toward the door, following their human stealthily out of sight.

"They will toy with him for hours," he explained, his eyes on their retreating form, "but you and I will be finished very soon with your meal… You don't need to let them suffer for long."

"They shouldn't suffer at all."

"Ileana," Dracula sighed, stepping around her and holding her firmly by the upper arm, his mouth close to her ear. "This is what you must do to survive… Not often, but you must learn. Now, smell the air… Where are they? Listen to their hearts…"

Her eyes drifted closed to the sound of his voice, and for a moment she used only her senses. It took some time, but she eventually detected one of the men, "The tower… I…"

"Find him."

"But-"

"Find him," he repeated in her ear, giving her a shove forward. "Don't think, don't reason… This is about you being tuned into your inner being, and satisfying your cravings. They must be unbearable by now."

"They are," she whispered, her fingers flicking toward the doorway to the tower. He reached around and dragged her hair away from her face, holding it behind her head tightly as he tilted her head back to look at him.

"My blood may satiate you," he murmured, "but this experience will be like nothing you've ever had before… Nothing will ever taste this good again, I promise."

"But they-"

"Are meant to die," he finished for her. Dracula released her and gave her a nudge toward the tower's entrance across the hall. She stood still for a moment longer, and only looked at him when he spoke one last time, "If you don't have him, I will."

She watched as he sauntered off toward the tower, his pace quickening the closer he got to the entrance, and she suddenly realized it was a challenge. He wanted to teach her, but she was sure that if he found the man before she did, he would have his share. Although she wanted to ignore this stupid game, her urges wouldn't let her, and before she knew what she was doing, Ileana raced through the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. As she leapt up the staircase, skipping a few steps at a time, she could hear the man's clumsy feet stumbling over the stone steps, each time his heartbeat quickening at his fumble. Instinct started to kick in faster than she expected, and she soon overtook Dracula in the narrow stairwell, pushing passed him like she would any other opponent in a competition. She faintly heard him laugh, but all that was ignored as she honed in on the one thing she truly wanted at that very moment; satisfaction.

Although the man hadn't been given much of a head start, the tower wasn't exactly enormous, and he was soon at the top. Ileana joined him a moment later, only to see him launch himself across a small stone bridge that connected two towers together. She smirked, standing in the doorway to give him a moment, and then she too propelled herself across. If she wanted to, Ileana could have scooped him up right then and there, but she didn't. Instead, she jumped off the bridge and shot herself through an open window at the other end. Once inside, she gripped a column and flung herself around, ready to meet him in the door-less entry at the end of the bridge. The man had been looking over his shoulder the entire run, and released a horrified scream when he crashed into Ileana unexpectedly. Remembering what Dracula told her, she stopped thinking and reasoning, and went with what her nature instinct demanded. The young vampire slammed the man against the wall, and within a second had rammed her sharp fangs into the curve of his neck.

This had to be what pure bliss felt like. Suddenly, the discomfort in her limbs faded. Her stomach stopped feeling like a hollow sac. Her senses felt rejuvenated, and everything seemed strong again. The blood was delicious, much better than any that she had taken from Dracula as of late, and she reasoned at this point there could be no way she could go back to having cold nourishment. The man squirmed in her grasp, begging for his life for only a minute as blood seeped down the front of his garments. The wound was substantial enough to soak the human and the front of Ileana's clothing, but she could have cared less. It was messy, primal, and glorious. She pulled away only for a moment, and realized the man was unconscious. He still had a heartbeat, but it was painfully slow, and she couldn't resist indulging herself until the very last drop had been enjoyed. Ileana threw his body to the ground and quickly clambered on top, her mouth returning to the wound so that no more blood could be wasted.

She only barely noticed Dracula stroll up beside her, although her eyes did flicker up a hint when he knelt down next to the body. He seemed pleased, though Ileana was quick to snarl at him angrily when he picked up the man's arm, his fangs extended to sample her kill. His eyes narrowed at her for her aggressive behaviour, and she hissed irritably when he grabbed her chin forcefully, pulling her a little closer to his face. Their eyes met, and he smirked, "Just as I thought."

"What?" she demanded, blood caked around her mouth carelessly.

"Your eyes change when you feed," he informed her. "Marishka's are yellow, Aleera's are pink, and Verona's are a light green… Yours are a maroon. I expected them to be dark."

"Congratulations," she mused, grasping his wrist and trying to push it off her. "Now leave me be."

"No."

"Just because you exposed me to this," she motioned down to the gaping wound, which was slowly seeping blood onto the stone floor, "doesn't mean my opinion of you has changed. You're an awful person, and I hate that you've turned me into this!"

"But _this_ is exactly what you wanted," Dracula laughed darkly. "Your inner desires will come to fruition, Ileana… We both know I'm the one to give you what you need."

She glared at him venomously, but did nothing to stop him from pulling her closer and running his tongue along her chin. A small gasp slipped from her lips at the sensual touch, and she knew because she had given in to one thing in this new world, she would be powerless now to ignore the other urges in it. He was overwhelming, just like the blood had been, and before she could stop herself, Ileana bit down hard on his lower lip, grasped the front of his jacket, and hauled him on top of her. He grunted a little and managed to loosen her bite, only to ram his lips against hers. Dead blood met fresh warm blood between their lips, and she had never felt his touch become this electrifying. She may have been dead, in theory, but never before had she been this truly alert and alive.

The dying man lay long forgotten as Dracula tore at her old brown work dress, ridding her of it in under a minute. The material lay in shreds beneath her as her own nails raked at the front of his clothing, eager to rid him of it in return. He kissed down the nape of her neck heatedly, and suddenly bit down hard into her skin, making her cry out. While it was painful, it certainly wasn't as horrible as one might expect, and she groaned softly as he lapped at the slowly cooling blood gushing from the wound. When he pulled away, she felt the skin patch itself up instantly. He continued on down, sinking his teeth into various other places on her body, including her bare breasts, until finally she threaded her hands into his hair and tugged him away violently, soundlessly demanding the real satisfaction she longed for at that very moment.

This was what being a vampire must have meant; quenching the urge in the moment. No thinking ahead, no wondering what might become of anything… It was about being greedy and selfish, and making your own ends meet before anyone else. Ileana didn't think what this might do for the power struggle between them, nor did she care that it was Dracula she was silently begging to satisfy her urges, she just wanted the need met.

He took hold of her hip and suddenly rolled her over onto her stomach, and then dragged her up a little so that she was off the ground. Before she could protest to the slightly demeaning position, he thrust into her completely, filling her in one go. Ileana cried out at the shock of it, but not from the pain. The pain wasn't there this time. She didn't need the warming up that he had given her the last time they had sex, and for that she was grateful. This might have been raw, and perhaps too rough for some, but it was exactly what Ileana needed. She moaned shamelessly, allowing every instinct she had been fighting for what felt like years loose as she bucked against his thrusts. In a way, it was better that she wasn't even facing him. Not that she imagined it could be anyone else pleasuring her, but she didn't want to actually see him in this particular instance.

He brought his hand around beneath her and gripped her neck, pushing it back so that her head came to rest against his shoulder. The pair continued grinding against one another, not saying anything. The only sound in the room consisted of her hips hitting the ground rhythmically, followed by a moan of contentment whenever he switched his angle. Finally, his pace changed, and he erratically drove himself against her, stiffening with a heavy groan against her skin. Her body quivered a touch as he pulled back from her, and she lay on the cool floor for a moment or so, basking in the leftover sensations. This is what had been missing from the last time; no thinking and genuine pleasure. They were a wonderful combination.

"You are a rare delicacy, Ileana," he purred as she rolled onto her back. She smirked and stared at the ceiling.

"You know what they say about delicacies?" the young vampire sighed, stretching her arms out lazily, "You can only have them every so often. Do you really want me to be your delicacy?"

"When I'm finished with you, you'll be everything I want you to be," Dracula insisted, crawling up her naked frame slowly. She rolled her eyes and shot him an unimpressed look.

"I suppose you can try."

"My dear, I never need to try."

Ileana scoffed and begged to differ, but he had already engulfed her in another kiss, one that she gave into without a second thought. Let her hate herself tomorrow. Today was about greediness. Tomorrow she would curse him, curse the brides, and curse herself. She would be sullen, angry, and guilty for everything she did today, but if she really thought hard about the consequences, she had to stop the pleasure. There was a time for everything, and right now, it was time to finally indulge.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I don't know if anyone else is, but I'm weirdly digging the relationship Dracula has with the brides. I mean, minus the fact they compete with our protagonist, I'm kind of liking it so far. I am actually considering writing a prelude that would highlight their relationship, and how the three came to be his brides. Somewhere down the line. **

**Sorry for the HUGE gap between updates. I don't know if people have followed my profile posts, but I was writing for a site as a job, and then it kind of turned into a scam type deal, so a HUGE waste of my time and energy. I've got some wrist problems, and I'm working on my fantasy novel with an editor, plus doing summer school and working. ARGH. But I will try to tank through chapters when I can, because I love you guys! **

**Also, this chapter felt really hard to write. I knew what I wanted, and could picture it perfectly in my head, and then I feel like it fell flat. Sorry about that. Better updates in the future! **


	25. New Proposal

_Started with a perfect kiss then_

_We could feel the poison set in_

_Perfect couldn't keep this love alive_

_Already Gone – Kelly Clarkson _

Vampires thrived on indulgence. Over the course of a month, she watched her new companions indulge in blood, arguments, and lust, all of which Ileana was prone to partake in on occasion. The blood came from an unlucky villager. She learned that Velkan's village sacrificed one person a month and Dracula kept his brides at bay so long as they provided a human to feast on. Sometimes it was an elderly individual, close to death already, and sometimes it was a criminal sentenced to death. None of the vampires seemed to care, and neither did Ileana, as long as they could feed they were pleased. Now, this didn't mean the women didn't go out on hunts. Dracula rarely joined them, but for a week or so Ileana watched the three women depart in their creature form at twilight and return around midnight with a fresh victim. These were people taken from other villages, never cities, and always in good health. Sometimes Dracula fed first, and the others would simply feast after, and on other occasions they would set the human loose in the castle, as they did for Ileana's first hunt, and enjoy the thrill of the chase. They gorged themselves, although they may made it appear as though the one person from Velkan's village was enough. Excellent liars, these vampires.

The arguments came from everyone. Ileana and Dracula. Verona and Marishka. Aleera and Verona. Aleera and Marishka. They ranged from petty to full-blown screaming matches. The brides were extra sensitive to one another sometimes, and a mere look could set them off. Ileana assumed it came from jealousy, and the fact that they had to compete for the love of their husband. Hell, that was why she loathed them most of the time, though she would never admit it. The brides never fought with Dracula, though Verona had come close on some occasions, and they usually had to do with Ileana. However, Ileana argued with the man whenever the feeling took over. That feeling of pure rage that she felt for him was undeniable, but mixed with the growing affection she harboured privately, it was especially volatile when the guilt sunk in. She hated him for making her like this. She hated him for taking her family and her humanity, but she loved him still. It was an irresistible attraction that Ileana felt toward the man, who was her first love, and most likely her only love for as long as they were in existence. So she shouted at him. Cursed him. Threw inanimate objects at him. The feelings she had now that she was dead were amplified to a point that she had never felt when she was alive, and it was horrible yet wonderful at the same time.

With those feelings came the indulgence in lust. Although she put up some vague attempt at a fight, she found her willingness to hold back diminished as the days passed by. He was so enticing that it hurt sometimes, and she wondered if it had to do with the fact that he turned her. Aleera explained that he lorded over all the vampires he turned, but only a few were chosen to be his constant companions. The brides were 'lucky' enough to be in his presence all the time, but vampires across Eastern Europe ached to have counsel with him, especially if he turned them directly. If they could, she was sure there were other women who would eagerly slip into his bed, and Ileana did so more and more without hesitation.

The brides indulged in their lust, but in different ways. It was unavoidable, running into him while he was with another woman, but it didn't make it any easier. However, those incidents taught her a little something about the relationship between him and each of his wives. He and Verona were quiet together, stayed in one room, and from the split second Ileana saw the pair together before rushing off, she decided that they looked hopelessly in love. Marishka, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She had walked in on them in a corridor one day, and the blonde bride made an awful amount of noise. There was also a lot of laughter and movement, and she had to quickly retreat, lest she physically be bowled over by the pair. Meanwhile, Aleera, from what she had heard, demanded his full attention, and kept it by doing whatever she thought would please him the most. Ileana realized that when they were together, he was bent on keeping her happy, mostly because they began their lovemaking at the tail end of an argument. Regardless of how it started, she found by the end, she was always satisfied. Perhaps that was what made it so awful; she didn't want him to make her happy. In fact, she didn't even want him to try, but he always did, and she could never really understand why.

The first moment she realized he was going out of his way to make her happy was when he moved Madalina out of the castle. Although she wasn't pleased the girl was back with Igor, she knew it would be better for her, for the moment anyway, to not be around Ileana when she couldn't control herself. When she expressed concern about the young girl living in that large castle with Igor all by herself, Dracula found an elderly nanny who was hired to watch the little girl until Ileana had a better grip on her prey drive. It was a thoughtful gesture. She knew Dracula could have sent her off to some orphanage somewhere, or disposed of her on the streets. In fact, she knew quite well that the brides could have eaten the little girl, if they saw fit. However, she heard from each of the women that another bride would pop over to check on her, sometimes sit with her or read a book together… They were all very fond of Madalina, surprisingly. She realized at that point that these women wanted nothing more than to be mothers to their own children.

Madalina missed her. She knew it, they all knew it, and the issue was rarely brought up because of how much it pained her. Although the girl wasn't her daughter, she felt wholly responsible for her well-being, and the fact that she could actually kill her by holding her improperly was devastating. However, she was getting much better. Whenever humans were brought back to the castle, no one needed to hold her back anymore. Before, it came naturally; present something live, and the scent of blood and the sound of a heartbeat sent her into a near frenzy to get at them. Now, she remained poised. As the youngest vampire there, the pecking order dictated she had to eat last, and at this point, she was able to respect that, but only just. By the time she was allowed to feed, she nearly devoured the man, bones and all, just to get at whatever sweet liquid was left. It was disgusting, but only if she thought about it. Therefore, when the bloodlust took over, Ileana stopped thinking about what she was doing, and concentrated on getting the whole ordeal with over as quickly as possible. To eat was heaven, but to crave was hell. She couldn't stand the dichotomy of her life.

And so, she stood on the top of the tallest tower the castle offered, and stared at the black abyss, a moat with no water, and wondered what would happen if she explored its depths. Would she find flames? The only way to find would be to actively search the area. If she jumped, her body knew, at this point, to change into some bat-like creature. Completely white, with dark red eyes, Ileana looked similar to the rest of the brides. They were the ones who taught her to fly, and although she hated the connotations of it, she adored the freedom it gave her. Once she knew how to shift her form from human to beast, she spent a lot of time soaring around the castle, sometimes alone, but usually with another bride. Never Verona; the woman still seemed unendingly irritated that she was even there, but Aleera and Marishka warmed to her quickly. These were the two that taught her the finesse of flying. Through them, she discovered how to urge her body to change, the proper way to pull up from a dive, and how to turn without taking too long. For that, she was actually grateful. They may have been irritating at times, and she was endlessly frustrated over their relationship with Dracula, but their willingness to help her without question was what she liked the most.

The women had left the castle for a hunt. Ileana wasn't allowed to go with them, as Dracula continuously expressed his unwillingness to trust her out in the open yet. Therefore, she was stuck in the castle until she could completely control herself, or Dracula completely controlled her. That the latter was even a possibility was frustrating, but she couldn't spend too much time on it, or she'd go insane. She knew he was lurking somewhere below, deep in the remains of her uncle's undestroyed journals. He had started to show an interest in them about a week ago, but hadn't brought it up with her, probably because he knew it would upset her. However, she knew he wasn't going to leave it alone for long, and had avoided him for a day or so to keep from fighting.

It was completely silent in their cavern, aside from the occasional flutter of bat wings from a nearby tower or room. There was no breeze, barely a temperature that affected her, and no sunlight. Instead, the castle was continuously surrounded by a light grey haze, neither day nor night. At first, that made it a little difficult to sleep, but now she just slept when she felt tired. At the moment, she didn't feel tired. She felt invincible. Standing on the very tips of her toes, she teetered precariously at the top of the tower, her arms outstretched, her low-cut red dress dangling over the edge.

When Dracula discovered the colour of her eyes now, the colour of the beast, was a maroon tone, she started getting a new wardrobe from the man, all of which matched her eyes. The first few garments were too similar to the ones the brides wore. They were too skimpy, with her legs exposed in slits. She wasn't a whore, as she curtly reminded Dracula, and he came back with more respectful. However, the neckline was lower than she would have worn before, but sometimes she felt like she needed to compete with the other women somehow.

Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, she eased herself off and plummeted down the side of the tower. She allowed herself to fall freely for a good thirty seconds, the air parting harshly against her cheeks, until she finally closed her eyes, concentrating on the shift between human limbs and vampire. When she opened her eyes again, her arms were a pearly white, with lengthy yellow claws at the tips of her fingers. Her wings beat powerfully, grown thick from her shoulder blades, and she pulled up just before colliding with the stone balcony on the second floor. Turning outward, she glided away from the castle, legs straight, arms out as she sailed above that black crevice. A few loops around the building followed, and she skimmed low in the courtyard to scoop up some snow, throwing it over herself as she darted off through the air, circling some of the towers a few times. Although she enjoyed her solo flight, it didn't last long.

Dracula's roar was obviously distinct. At first, she cringed at the sound. It was too animalistic, too horrible for her to answer, but the brides perked instantly whenever they heard it. As time passed, she got used to it, and when she heard it during a flight, she knew he was coming to join her. Ileana saw the shadow pass overhead, and she didn't need to look back to know that she was no longer alone. The powerful beat of his wing was enough to signify his presence. They criss-crossed across the ridges and swooped together around the turrets of the castle, making eye contact maybe once or twice, yet doing the exact same thing across the sky. Their dance was elegant, seductive, and had no hints of aggression for once. All that time ignoring him made her miss him a little. Ileana was less willing to fight off his advances when they spent less time together.

She landed atop a very tiny ledge on the walls of underground world opposite the castle. Gravity seemed to not apply as heavily to vampires on certain aspects, and she learned quickly that she could walk up any wall she wanted. So, as Dracula's beastly form approached her, she leaned back against the hard stone, and crawled upward deviously, a grin on her lips as he transformed back into a man on the same ledge. He climbed up after her quickly, saying nothing, only capturing her lips with his, cupping his large hand beneath her chin. They continued to inch up the wall, until finally Ileana slipped into the indent she had been searching for blindly. It was a small cave she had discovered on a previous flight. On days when she wanted to truly be by herself, she would sit in it and watch the torches flicker in the windows of the castle. For now, she wouldn't mind sharing it with her lover. She hauled him inside by the cuff of his collar, smirking devilishly when he arched an eyebrow. Once inside the cave, no longer defying gravity's pull, she let him shed her clothing in a few careful manoeuvres as she went to work immediately on his, their lips parting only momentarily to slide his shirt over his head.

For once, their lovemaking wasn't fuelled by anger. It wasn't some tender session, but she genuinely wanted to open her eyes and see him looking back at her. When they finished, they lay together on the floor of the shallow cave, his thick jacket thrown over her hips as she leaned against him.

"You've been avoiding me."

She closed her eyes, wishing he would have let it go for longer. However, it seemed like a few moments of blissful silence was enough for Dracula.

"I didn't want to fight," she admitted. "I thought this was the best way."

"Why would we fight?" he inquired softly, curling a piece of her hair around his finger.

"I saw you reading my uncle's old journals," Ileana explained, her eyes still closed. "I assumed we would fight."

He paused mid-curl, and then let her hair fall back down, "I have been reading them. I hoped to find something I might have missed before."

"Why?"

Dracula became silent for a moment, and she figured he was trying to pick his words carefully. Perhaps he did not want to cause an argument either. God knows he dealt with enough of them around this place, living permanently with four women and everything that that entailed. He shifted away a little, making her lay flat on her back as he leaned on his elbow beside her.

"I want to start again," he explained. "We lost the Creature… I don't want to bring up the past, but I want to continue with my original goal for your uncle's experiments."

"Which was?"

"To create life from nothing," Dracula stressed. She felt him grasp her chin and turn her head toward him, her eyes fluttering open at the touch, "My brides want nothing more than to bring our children to life… You saw how envious they are of Madalina. They want the experiments to work, because we will finally be able to create our family from the beginning."

"Your… children?" Ileana repeated, the information new, and somewhat startling, to her, "Why do you need to bring them to life?"

"Our children are born dead, my dear," he explained coolly, "and when the Creature was ready, he was to act as an unlimited power supply to feed them life. Alas, that was unsuccessful… but that does not mean we cannot try again."

Pursing her lips, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, "We both know that I can't recreate what my uncle did. I hope you weren't planning on asking me to do so."

"Ileana-"

"You were!" she cried, rolling her eyes and sitting up completely, holding his jacket over her naked chest, "Why would you bring that awful time up? I've only just barely gotten over you murdering _me_! Do you think I'd forget what you did to him?"

"Oh, come now," Dracula mused, grasping her arm as she tried to scoot away from him. "You seem to be doing just fine at adjusting to life without the watchful eye of your uncle."

Her jaw dropped and her gaze hardened, "How dare you say that to me!"

Although she tried to push his hand off her arm, he managed to grab that free hand and hold her still, a somewhat frustrated expression on his face, "I don't want to fight either… Really, it seems unproductive and draining on both of us."

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't make me so angry by saying ridiculous things!" she snapped heatedly. It bothered her when only she was angry. When that was the case, it seemed as if she was being unreasonable, and Dracula merely took the brunt of her rage like any good sport would.

"I have a proposal for you," he informed her, ignoring her last comment pointedly. "If you agree to try this experiment again with me, and we work together with Igor, I will let you move back into Castle Frankenstein. It can be yours and Madalina's… You won't have any of my brides to bother you if you don't want them there, and you can send me away whenever I displease you-"

"And you would actually leave me be?" Ileana asked sceptically, her eyebrows shooting up, "Because that would be a first."

"If you make a reasonable argument without shouting at me," he insisted, and added quietly, "which would be a first, I might add, then I don't see why you shouldn't be able to shoo me out of your castle."

Ileana paused, considering the offer, "It would be mine… and Madalina can stay with me?"

"I think you can handle yourself better now than before," Dracula said cautiously, "but you will still need to actively watch your behaviour around her. She is much more delicate now."

"And all I would need to do is try to help you recreate the experiment?" she clarified, "What if we can't?"

"We will deal with it one step at a time, and make adjustments as we go," Dracula stated firmly, "but I will not let you move out of here if you cannot promise me you will genuinely make a real effort to do this task…"

He gripped her wrist a little tighter, his dark, hollow eyes boring into hers to catch any concocted falsehoods. However, despite his searching, she hid whatever doubts about the experiment _ever_ working again at the back of her mind, and smiled a tentative smile.

"I think I like this proposal…" she told him, his hold on her relaxing a little. "Much more than I liked the last one, anyway."

It took him a moment to realize she was hinting at his marriage proposal, but she laughed light-heartedly and threw his jacket back at him. She then slipped off the ledge of the cave, freefalling once more into the black abyss. Moments later, she was in flight, and her inhuman cry beckoned the man to join her in a second round of flying before the others returned from their hunt.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Again, I am so sorry for the long time between updates for this story. I don't know why the muse is so tough on me all of a sudden. All of this is completely new to me. I've written this story before, but these past few chapters have been new, and the way I am writing Ileana is new. In the previous edition of this story, she remained the same as she was before, perhaps a little more confident… but here I think she's taking a new persona on a little with her change into a vampire. I'm sort of rolling with it, and seeing what will happen. Hopefully I can get over this block that's keeping me from getting good chapters done. Quite frustrating. I'm also super headche-y and tired, but I wanted to get this out here before I crashed for the night. Therefore, I apologize for the rambling, and slight nonsense that I feel like I've thrown in there. Maybe it's Castle Dracula... It's messing with my muse! Back to Castle Frankenstein we go!**


	26. Return to Castle Frankenstein

_Nobody knows better than me_

_I wouldn't be wishin' I was free_

_If it hadn't been, if it hadn't been for love_

_If it hadn't been for love – Adele _

Ileana was thrilled to be leaving the castle. Although she mildly enjoyed her time with Marishka and Aleera as they taught her how to be a proper vampire, she found the whole ordeal suffocating. Dracula wasn't as persistent about them spending time together anymore, which was a blessing, but the less he pestered her, the more she found herself drawn to him. His aloofness was thrilling, in a way, and she definitely participated in the castle's competition for his affections. Much to her surprise, she had a knack for beating the brides most friendly with her when it came to monopolizing Dracula's time. All she had to do was tell him she had come up with new plans for the rebuilding of the Creature, and he was hers for however long she wanted him. Naturally, she had no idea what to do, but usually distracted him with her newfound sexuality. Dracula was, by no means, complaining when she would inevitably tell him she still needed more research to have better ideas for the new Creature.

However, she always lost to Verona. The dark-haired vampire merely had to glance in Dracula's direction and he was at her side, whispering sweet honey in her ears as she indulged him. It made sense. Verona was the eldest bride, and had been with Dracula for almost three centuries. However, as Ileana became a little more possessive over the man she had a powerful love-hate relationship with, she found herself growing jealous of the bride. Aleera and Marishka could never strike that kind of jealousy from her. They almost seemed like mistresses; there for sex, but Dracula rarely had them aside for individual conversations. He and Ileana could spend hours talking, much like they did in the early weeks of their relationship, about world history, science and politics. She had no idea what he talked with Verona about, but she knew from the other brides it wasn't science. In fact, she hadn't the slightest understanding of their partnership at all. He and Verona were seldom seen in 'public' together, and kept most of their intimate moments behind closed doors, much like she did whenever she wanted him.

Ileana actually embraced her love-hate relationship with the Count. However, there were subtle aspects that had changed since Dracula promised to move her back to Castle Frankenstein. When she wanted him, Ileana wanted him. There was no guilt about her desires, and she accepted his compliments, touches, and had even let him bite her once. When she hated him, which frequently followed her brief periods of blinding hunger for the man, Ileana rarely thought back to how, just moments earlier in some cases, she wanted him terribly. The guilt in both instances started to fade, and she had come to accept her feelings toward him. Dracula too came to realize that she wasn't completely in love with him, nor she did loathe him entirely. There was some strange balance between the emotions, and her lover quickly detected her mood of the day within a few moments of being around her. Sometimes he liked to provoke her, which prompted her to hurl something ripped out of the wall at him. Usually that drove the message home that she didn't want to see him. For the most part, Ileana had a surprising amount of control over their relationship. She decided when and for how long she desired his company, and he had come to respect that over time. Perhaps he figured it wasn't worth the hassle of enduring her moody bitterness, but Ileana didn't care about his reasons, so long as he left her alone when she wanted him to.

It had been two weeks since Dracula told her she could move back to the castle. She proved to be excellent at keeping her cool around bloodied dinners, and usually waited patiently until everyone had their share. Apparently, they were eating more often because Ileana was a young vampire. Her age indicated she needed more blood to thrive in her new form, and without it she would whither into nothingness. Her logical side understood the concept. When she fed, she saw it as a means to fuel her body and keep her functional. Finally, she learned to keep her emotional side locked up. It was a necessary evil, and until she could find a way to potentially reverse this curse her lover had given her, she would continue to do it to survive. Ileana was very good at waiting by now. She was patient, and the scent of blood no longer drove her into a frenzy. She had been adequate when Dracula informed her about moving back to her old castle with Madalina, but these past two weeks really drove the point home; Ileana was maturing as a vampire. In time, perhaps another month or so, Marishka and Aleera told her she would only feel like feeding once or twice a month. The lust was always there, and when a meal presented itself, she shouldn't ignore it, but otherwise she wouldn't feel the undeniable hunger like she did now. For now, it was always present, but Ileana was much better at ignoring it.

The day had finally come for her to leave the castle and return home. It was strange that she considered Castle Frankenstein home, but it was where she had lived for the past year. At this point, she was sure all the old staff from her previous home with her uncle had either given up hope and abandoned their house, or sold it to the highest bidder to get some use of the land. Therefore, she probably didn't have a home back there anymore. It was a depressing thought, but for now she could make do with the place Dracula gave her as her home base. Besides, with Madalina there, and perhaps even Mercy again, it was bound to feel like more of a home than this place. She almost felt like she needed to pack in order to get out of the dead castle, but it wasn't as though she had a lot of personal belongings. Ileana had a few books that Dracula brought over for her at one point, and an empty journal for her to write in whenever she had thoughtful ideas about their experimentation. She also had some dresses that were donated by Marishka and Aleera, along with two new ones Dracula purchased for her about a week ago. As requested, they showed far less skin than his brides preferred, and Ileana was perfectly happy with it.

Therefore, whatever belongings she had with her, she shoved into a small suitcase she forced Dracula to find for her. It was completely bulging once she was finished, but she had everything she needed. If her room remained untouched at Castle Frankenstein, she wouldn't have to get anything else. However, she now slept in a coffin. She paused and then frowned. That might pose a problem. Her room in the tower had lovely windows that let the sunlight filter in on gorgeous days. Unfortunately, she could no longer enjoy those. It was a saddening thought, but she moved on from it quickly. There was no point in dwelling on it much longer. Instead, she decided that room would now belong to Madalina wholly, and Ileana would find a better room that would suit her needs somewhere else. If Dracula had survived there, Ileana certainly could too.

As she looked around the barren room that had belonged to her for this brief period away, she decided that she had no feelings over leaving it behind. It was the place of her rebirth, and yet she felt no attachment to it. It was merely a round room with stone walls and a coffin in the centre. She had her clothes flung about sporadically and the occasional book poking its head out, but otherwise the room was relatively empty. Good. She didn't need memories or anything else keeping her there. With her hands on her hips, she gave the room a farewell nod. When she turned out, intent on leaving, she found her way blocked by Verona. The dark-haired vampire filled up the doorway, her hands resting on either side of the frame, head cocked, and expression cold. Ileana raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, she waited for the older vampire to slip inside. She gave a sweeping look to the room, and then brought her focus back to Ileana.

"So you're really leaving then?"

"I am. Dracula promised Castle Frankenstein to me."

"I suppose it makes sense that his mistress live elsewhere."

Ileana's gaze hardened. She took a step forward, head raised defiantly, "I'm not a mistress."

"You are not a bride," Verona argued, shrugging her shoulders. "So what are you? A whore?"

She had never heard Verona speak so candidly at her before. In fact, Verona hadn't said more than two words to Ileana since she arrived at the castle, and she couldn't quite understand why she wanted to spoil her last few moments there.

"First and foremost," Ileana ground out, "I am a scientist… A scientist who is working _hard_ to bring your dead children to life. Secondly, I am a lover, not a whore, as your husband doesn't pay me."

"He doesn't need to pay you in gold to pay you," Verona purred, nodding at her bag full of clothes. "He has other ways to charm a woman, even one as smart as you, little scientist."

"Why is it that you hate me so much?" she asked frankly. Ileana had never been fortunate enough to learn the ways of women having grown up with men. She wasn't accustomed to the way they talked around everything, speaking circles rather than directly. In fact, when she watched the brides argue, she decided that although it may be normal for women to snap at one another thusly, it wasn't for her. It was easier to say directly what was on her mind and leap right into the argument, rather than dance around it for hours. Naturally, this was a little more difficult with Dracula, as the man drove her completely insane sometimes, but she thought she usually handled herself fairly well.

Verona slipped into the room, her arms falling to her side, and she glared at Ileana. If she hadn't been a vampire, the woman might have feared for her soul. However, while she might not have been as strong as Verona, she couldn't die. If the older vampire attacked, it would be painful, but certainly not life-threatening by any means. Therefore, Ileana held her ground, confident in physical abilities now more than at any point in her life.

"You remind me too much of myself when I met my husband," Verona hissed. "Perhaps not now, but he already adores your mind. I loved him so dearly, and I know the same can be said for you. You are completely unlike the two girls he chose after me… and therefore, I hate every piece of your being, dead or alive."

It seemed Verona was not one to mince words either. Ileana stared at her coolly, trying to look impervious to the hateful comments. It wasn't unexpected, but that didn't mean it stung any less.

"However, as much as I despise you, I wish you the best of luck in your experiments," Verona concluded, picking at her nails lazily. "I hope progress is quick, and your services will no longer be needed when you are finished."

She turned away from Ileana, her waist-length black hair swaying around her hips as she did so, and then marched toward the doorway. Ileana smirked a little, "I think your husband will always be in need of my services, but thank you for your kind words."

Verona paused mid-stride, and for a moment, Ileana waited for her to turn back and attack her. However, her comment seemed to hit hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to warrant some sort of reprisal. The vampire departed in a flurry of green and white fabric without another word, and Ileana grinned triumphantly. If she wanted to play games, Verona had to know that Ileana wasn't the passive little girl she was when she came to Transylvania. Instead, Ileana had matured into a grown woman, both physically and mentally, and she was more than capable of handling herself with critics and foes alike.

Grabbing her bag, she departed from the room without another look. She had already said her private goodbyes, and there was no point in lingering any longer. Clad in one of her older blue dresses, Ileana looked human. Aside from her exceptionally pale skin, there was nothing about her physical appearance that gave away the demon she had become. When Madalina saw her, she would be Ileana and nothing more, and that was what she wanted. Now that she could control herself, she was going to be extra cautious not to frighten the little girl so terribly ever again. She could barely forgive herself for the last time. Never again.

Dracula was waiting for her at the peak of the tallest tower the castle had to offer. It was her favourite place to take off from whenever she was in the mood to fly, and they usually met there when they felt the urge to fly together. He had been away for a few days to help Igor rebuild the laboratory at Castle Frankenstein, and she could almost feel the twinge of excitement when she saw him leaning against the tower's peak. She clambered out a window from the tower across from him, and then flew over to great her lover, transforming back into a human directly in front of him. He smiled appreciatively and then took her bag from her, tucking it under his arm as she leaned up to kiss him. Sighing happily, she curled her arms up and nuzzled into his chest.

"I missed you."

"Apparently so," Dracula chuckled as he sunk his fingers through her air, gripping it tightly to tilt her head up at him. "Are you ready to leave?"

"I don't think you need to ask," Ileana purred, her eyebrow flickering up briefly. "I've been ready to leave since you brought me here."

"Oh come now, my dear," he grinned, planting soft kisses along the ridge of her chin. "It couldn't have been all bad?"

"No, I suppose not," she decided, squirming a little when he nibbled on her ear lobe. "Verona was kind enough to send me off with a few parting words."

"Did she now?"

"She did," Ileana replied. "Your loving bride told me that she hates every part of me, but hopes we're successful on the experiment."

He gave a soft sigh in her ear and then pulled back, their eyes meeting, "I would like to think that was her trying to be civil."

"What a charmer," Ileana droned, rolling her eyes a little. "I can see why you were so taken with her."

"Ileana-"

"Relax," she told him as she grabbed his wrist and untangled his fingers from her hair. "It didn't bother me… She told me something I already knew."

His lips were a thin line, an expression of his displeasure, and Ileana decided it was best to just let it go. She wasn't sure how he handled the jealousy between all the women in his life. They were careful to never express it when he was around, so perhaps his tactic was to ignore it and hope they all got along. Despite being a vampire for nearly three centuries, Dracula was clearly still a man somewhere down there, and when it came to female problems, ignorance was bliss.

"The sun set an hour ago," Dracula informed her as they sauntered around to the other side of the tower's point. "We should have no problems outside."

Ileana eyed the entrance to a cave that led to the outside world, something she had been denied access to ever since she arrived. She wanted to push him aside, leap off the tower, and fly for freedom. Naturally, she wouldn't go far. From what she understood, her old castle was at the foot of the mountain that she current resided in, and the village was a few miles down in the valley beside it. All this time, it felt like she was so distant from the rest of the world, when really nothing but a mountain's outer layer kept her from humanity. However, it wasn't as if she could lose Dracula in flight, and he knew exactly where she was going. No point in eagerly rushing off; he might think she was trying to escape to somewhere other than Castle Frankenstein, and decide to keep her here even longer. It wasn't just at this very moment that Ileana controlled her temper around Dracula. Although she felt herself slowly losing her temper with him in the time since he told her he planned to move her back, Ileana remained relatively calm. He wasn't one to get too upset when they fought, but she didn't want to push him to the point where he rescinded his offer.

She grabbed his wrist and then leaned backwards over the edge of the tower, a coquettish grin on her lips. Without another word, he leapt from the tower, dragging her with him, and they both transformed into a pair of massive winged creatures, shrieking into the hollowed mountain. They spiralled around one another, and Dracula led the way toward the cave's opening, Ileana in hot pursuit. As they whizzed down the dark tunnel, Ileana suddenly felt real wind on her face for the first time in well over a month. She shut her eyes, inhaling deeply, though unnecessarily, and felt her wings beat faster as they propelled her through the tunnel. As she passed Dracula, she tugged on his foot playfully, and then shot past him when he looked back. Moments later, she was in the free air again, twirling happily. The air wasn't as dense out here, and a tad warmer to her undead skin, despite the fact the ground was still covered in snow.

Lights flickered in the windows at Castle Frankenstein, and she rushed forward, not bothering to wait for Dracula any longer. Excitement pounded within her as she landed in the courtyard, her body morphing back into her human form seconds before her feet touched the ground. Dracula landed soon after, and in the flurry of the moment, Ileana let him drag her to the abandoned stables at the side of the courtyard and thrust her inside. He tossed her bag on the ground and pushed her against the hard wooden wall.

"Can't we do this after?" Ileana inquired breathlessly, tugging at his hair as pushed up her skirts. He gave her a heated kiss in return, adjusting them properly so that he had her hiked up against the wall, and then pushed into her roughly. Ileana's eyes rolled back, hopelessly infatuated with the pain and pleasure one man was capable of giving her without a second thought.

Her head lolled to the side, and Dracula whispered in her ear, "I want you to thank me _now_."

With each word emphasized by a powerful thrust, Ileana cried out, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. They stayed in the stable for some time, Ileana's soft moans accompanied by his deepened grunts, until they were both completely satisfied. They had ended up on the floor with Ileana straddling him, his hand resting contentedly on her bare thighs. She leaned forward and gave him a lazy kiss, as he fiddled with the strings from her bodice. Patting his cheek, she slid up and removed his hand before clambering off. After she smoothed down the front of her dress, she searched for her bag in the darkened stable. Now that she was no longer focused on Dracula locking her back up in his mountain castle, her thoughts turned primarily to Madalina. Without another word, she grabbed her bag and darted for the main entrance of her old castle. The handle felt familiar in her cold hand, and she flung open the usually heavy door with ease, stepping inside as a gust of wind and bits of snow spiralled along with her.

Tossing her bag aside, she studied the hallways with a frown. My, they were filthy. She heard Dracula shut the door behind her, and she looked at him questioningly.

"You said you were fixing the castle-"

"The laboratory," Dracula corrected. "Igor and I saw to the laboratory. The nanny minding Madalina was supposed to keep up with the cleaning."

Although Ileana hadn't been the perfect housekeeper back when she was a human, she never let it get this bad. There were horribly long cobwebs strung up in the corners and off the bases of torches. All she could smell was dust and putrid dampness, and it angered her. How could Madalina be subjected to these kinds of living conditions? How long had it been like this? She glared at a rat that dared run across the hallway. It scampered toward a hole in the wall, but with Ileana's new reflexes, she was much faster. Within a fraction of a second she had the creature by the tail and threw it outside, slamming the door behind it. They might need a cat to counteract any other rodent problems… There was clearly much to do around here before she could get to work in the laboratory, especially if Dracula was giving the castle to her. If this was to become her home, even if it was a temporary one until she sorted herself out, Ileana wasn't going to have it look this disgusting.

"Madalina?" Ileana shouted, suddenly picking up on a heartbeat in the kitchen. She hurried down the hallway and looked into the familiar room, only to find Igor crouched over the counter slicing up what appeared to be some rotten vegetables. She wrinkled her nose at him when he looked up at her. He was just as disgusting as she remembered. The hunchbacked man seemed to cower at her presence, and the second she heard a second pair of hearts beating in her old tower, she was gone, focusing in on them. One was faster than the other, and beat stronger. She assumed it was Madalina, unless the woman had been starving her and her health had deteriorated. If that was the case, someone was dying tonight.

Dracula had not followed her up the old familiar stairwell to her previous room, and she was grateful for it. Madalina was hers, not theirs. She wanted to handle the girl on her own terms, especially now that she no longer wanted to rip her throat out and devour whatever was inside. A grim picture, but at that point it seemed wonderful.

Ileana called the girl's name once more, and threw open the door to her old room when she heard two sets of voices, one distinctly belonging to her little girl. She spotted them sitting on her old bed, a book in Madalina's hands, which she dropped when she saw Ileana. The older woman beside her, looking perhaps ten years Ileana's senior, gave Ileana a hard look, which the vampire ignored.

"Ileana!" Madalina cried, wiggling off the bed and rushing toward her, "Are you better now?"

"All better, darling," Ileana whispered as she embraced the little bundle of happiness, the warm flesh of her face nestled perfectly into the cold crook of her neck. "I won't ever leave you again."

Something smelled a little… off. Ileana pulled back to give Madalina a once over, and realized that the girl looked almost as filthy as the front hall did. There was dirt beneath her eyes, her hair was ridiculously greasy, and the whites of her eyes seemed a little yellower than she remembered. Had she gotten sick over the month? With a frown on her lips, she quickly wiped off some of the dirt, and then stood up, her hand resting firmly on Madalina's shoulder. Her gaze quickly found this supposed nanny and housekeeper, who hadn't even bothered to stand up to greet her formally. At this point, Ileana just wanted to toss her out the tower's window and be done with it. However, she couldn't frighten Ileana again. Instead, she figured she ought to handle this like a grown-up and a human.

"Your services are no longer required," she told the woman icily, sounding eerily similar to Verona's sentiments earlier. "You may pack your things and find a suitable lodging in the village."

"My employment is supposed to be for two months," the woman protested, her French accent throwing Ileana off a little. Where on Earth had Dracula found a French woman in these parts? Shaking her head, she glared at her, and then stepped around Madalina.

"You are relieved of your employment because you have not met its terms," Ileana sneered. "The castle is in a deplorable state, and my girl looks wretched!"

"Only your husband can remove me-"

"He's not my husband," Ileana snapped, her fists clenching, "but he'll do as I tell him. When I tell him I want you out of this castle, he'll do it even if he has to drag you out by your hair!"

All right, so that wasn't exactly the way she wanted to handle this, but that French cow got on her nerves faster than she expected. The woman rose abruptly, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and stormed out the door, shooting Ileana a horrible look as she left. It made her want to laugh. Let her try something! It wasn't like she could kill her again, or anything. With that terrible excuse of a housekeeper gone, she turned back to Madalina, who seemed a little shaken.

"Now, now, she needed to leave," Ileana told her, crouching down and holding out her arms, silently inviting the young girl to hug her. "Did you like her?"

"A little," Madalina replied with a shrug, "but she hit me a lot, so I'm not too sad."

"Well, no one will ever touch you again," Ileana told her, enveloping her in a hug as they sat down on the floor together. "Now, tell me what you've been doing while I was away. How have you been with your studies?"

She sat there, with Madalina curled up on her lap, and listened as the little blonde told her about her adventures during the month she had been away. As she listened, she couldn't help but have one thought. All she wanted to do was feel Madalina's warm skin against her own and share that heat, but she couldn't. Madalina recoiled a little at the frigid touch, and that alone quietly broke her.


	27. A time to celebrate

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares_

_Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made_

_Who would have known how bittersweet would taste?_

_Someone like you – Adele _

Ileana wasn't particularly surprised at how easy it was to transition from life at one castle to another. Her first day back, a horribly stormy one with scattered thunder and sleet, found Ileana falling back into old routines as if nothing had ever happened. It was strange to wake up in the morning again, however. Castle Dracula had no real definition of time. She went to bed when she was tired, or out of the sheer need to escape the castle's occupants, and dragged herself out of her stone coffin when she no longer felt comfortable. Now that she was back at the old castle, she put Madalina to bed at a slightly unreasonable hour for the little girl, and stayed up the remainder of the night and a great deal of the morning to set up her new room. Unfortunately, she couldn't stay in the tower with the girl anymore. The windows were too lovely to cover, but posed too much of a threat for sneaky sunlight. There was enough space for her to move a coffin in, and she worried that it might startle Madalina to see something so associated with death in her bedroom. So, she told Madalina that the room now belonged to her, and only her, because she was growing into a big girl. Therefore, Ileana no longer needed to sleep in the same room. Instead, she took up residence in Dracula's chambers. His coffin was large enough for two, so whenever he decided to stay the night, there was space for both of them. It was certainly larger than the one she had at his castle, and Ileana eagerly clambered in and sprawled out for her first night back in Castle Frankenstein, blissfully happy to return.

There were plenty of painful memories here. Her uncle's death, her lover's betrayal, and the first encounter with his three brides were more than enough to send any sane woman packing. However, this was an unusual circumstance that Ileana found herself in. She couldn't leave him again, even if she wanted to. While some days she may hate him, the young vampire burned for Dracula like no other at this point. She chalked it up to their connection, as he was the one who turned her into her new form. He gave her new life, and this new body, the solid stone cold one so similar to her last, responded only to him. Besides, where else could she go? She might have been an intellectual, but Ileana was completely in the dark about how to live a happy and immortal life as a vampire. The brides gave her tips and tricks for survival, but nothing compared to real experience. To test the waters, it made sense to do it around a man who catered to whatever whim she expressed on any given day. Now, he might have been using her a little to further the experiment, but Ileana found it flattering. How many women in this day and age could say a man was using her for her brilliance? If she tried, she could probably count the number on one hand.

She awoke at what would be sunrise had the weather not been so terrible. Ileana barely noticed the cold in the castle, and strolled through it in a light cotton dress, arms and feet bare. Her lengthy brown hair hung loose down her back, and she almost felt as if it were summer again. Madalina was quite upset at the cold when she woke, and informed her that her previous nanny had always lit a fire when she went to bed to fend off the night air. Ileana made a note to light every fireplace in the castle when Madalina went to sleep. To make up for her folly, she tucked Madalina back into bed, bundled her up in a few layers, and made her a delicious breakfast that she served her in bed. It seemed she had picked up a case of the sniffles during the course of the night, and Ileana also set to work on a broth for her to drink periodically throughout the day.

Preparing food felt natural yet foreign. It was something she hadn't need to do for herself for what felt like a century, and yet it used to be something that came to her like breathing. She tried a nibble of Madalina's breakfast, but nothing about it was appealing. The bread tasted like ash in her mouth, and although she smiled through it, she wanted nothing more than to spit it out and scrub her mouth clean. She insisted that she had eaten before Madalina woke up, and was no longer hungry. After the girl was satiated, Ileana found a book for the pair to read from the pile that she asked Dracula to buy for Madalina while she was gone. Apparently, her nanny hadn't done any academic work with her. Madalina's English was fairly decent still, but Ileana decided they were going to have to review a fair amount of work if she wanted to be at the same level she was before. However, Ileana knew Madalina, like most children, wasn't excited to spend her days filled with lessons again, so she decided to ease into it slowly. They spent the better part of the morning reading an English adventure novel, written for young women, in bed. Ileana kept Madalina bundled up in her blankets whenever she had her arms around her, recalling the way the girl recoiled when she touched her bare flesh the night before.

After they finished their book, Ileana cooked her some lunch, covered in layers of clothing, and took her outside for a romp in the snow. The sleet had settled, but unfortunately hardened into ice once the chill came back. It wasn't quite as much fun as she was hoping, considering Madalina kept falling everywhere whenever Ileana let her wander too far away from her. So, that might have been a bit of a disaster, but it tired the girl out enough that Ileana could get her into the study without much of a fuss. They spent the remainder of the afternoon going over some arithmetic and English grammar that Madalina was fuzzy on. Naturally, it was all the very basic of what Ileana had in her arsenal as a teacher. Madalina was still only a little girl, and she certainly couldn't handle what Ileana had stored up in her brain from years of tutelage under her uncle. However, Madalina was a smart girl, and she picked up new lessons quickly. Now, Ileana found she needed to repeat things several times before the ideas really stuck, but she was smarter than the average villager. If she hadn't met Ileana, there would have been no chance for her to flourish into the intelligent little girl she was becoming.

When lessons finished, dinner followed. Madalina inquired several times why Ileana wasn't eating with her, and she eventually made up a story that her sickness kept her full. It wasn't the most brilliant thing ever, but when Madalina heard Ileana's new eating habits came from "the sickness", that seemed to be enough. They spent some time cleaning up after dinner, and then finished the night with a vigorous game of English Draughts, which Madalina had never heard of before. Ileana and her uncle used to play more often when she was younger. It was a good game to build analytical skills on, and Madalina seemed to get particularly excited when she could move her little round piece to Ileana's side and proclaim that the woman now had to 'king' her. Ileana wasn't exactly playing in all seriousness, otherwise Madalina wouldn't have won as many games as she did, but it was certainly all in a bit of fun. They were having such a good time, in fact, that she lost track of the night completely. Sometime during their ninth round, Dracula poked his head into his room where she and Madalina had taken up residence. The board game was his, after all. She had never seen a board made of marble or pieces made of glass. Madalina was told to be very careful with them, but she was sure Dracula wouldn't be fussed if the girl broke one or two.

"I see you've found something to do aside from mathematics," Dracula mused as he strolled into the room, hands clasped behind his back. Madalina nodded quickly, rolling her eyes a little, and then moved a checker piece alone the square board, hopping over two of Ileana's figures in a move she had just been taught. Ileana tilted her head up when Dracula placed a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled affectionately at him. Her day had been so wonderful with Madalina that his presence barely fazed her. Instead, she was almost pleased to see him. In a way, they were one odd little family. Sometimes it was a pretty picture.

"Good evening, my dear," he purred as he leaned down. She shut her eyes as he kissed her forehead, his lips no longer frigid against her skin. "I trust you have had a pleasant day?"

"More than pleasant," Ileana sighed, lifting herself a little to give him a firm, but brief, kiss on the lips. "We did so much today… It's wonderful to be back."

"I'm pleased then," Dracula insisted, drawing up a spare chair to sit next to Madalina, his arm over the back of the little girl's chair. He watched the two play for a little while longer, and Ileana couldn't help but smirk when he leaned down and whispered tips into girl's ear. Of course, Madalina won the match and asked to play again, but Ileana shook her head.

"No, no, it's far too late already," she insisted, nodding toward a large grandfather clock nearby. "I kept you up late last night… Not again tonight."

"But-"

"Madalina," Ileana warned lightly, her eyebrows raising a little. "Off to bed. Would you like me to tuck you in?"

The little girl pouted a little as she slid off her chair, and then shook her head, "No, I can do it myself."

"All right," Ileana sighed, shooting Dracula a slightly amused look as she ducked her head down to kiss Madalina on the cheek. "I'll be up to say good night in a little while."

"_Noapte_ _bună_, Madalina," Dracula called as the small girl slunk toward the door. She looked back at him and smiled faintly, and then wished him a good night too. Once she was gone, Ileana rose from her chair and took a seat in the Count's lap, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"You are so good with her," she mused, kissing a few random spots along his neck, "sometimes."

"Everyone has a learning curve when it comes to being a parent," Dracula insisted, taking her light scolding in stride. "I suppose I will need to learn quickly."

"Why do you say that?"

"Aleera is pregnant," he told her, a certain giddiness in his voice that she seldom heard. She sat up straighter to look him in the eye, and he smiled. "We've just discovered today… For us, the gestation period is roughly three months before a vampire lays their children, and another four months follow to let them develop."

Ileana opened and closed her mouth a few times, more stunned at the notion of vampires laying their children, rather than giving a live birth, than the idea of another woman being pregnant by the love of her life. She processed the information quickly, "The children are born… dead?"

"Yes, yes, you know this," Dracula reasoned, scooping her up in his arms and setting her on the table, his large hands resting on her hips as he stood before her. "Female vampires _can_ deliver young, as we have discovered, but they are all dead. They are delivered in sacs, and continue to grow for a few months, but none have come to fruition. That is why many of my kind turn humans into vampires to increase their family… I want to bring my own progeny to life, and you know exactly how I intend to do it."

"Well, more or less," Ileana muttered, thinking of all the kinks in her uncle's experimental design. "How many children will she have?"

"Roughly one hundred."

"One hundred?" Ileana scoffed, her eyes widening, "How… How does she… I don't… understand the… physicality of that-"

"You will see when the time comes," Dracula told her as she wrinkled her nose. "The pregnancy happens quickly… In a week's time, she will already start to show."

It was a surprise to her, and perhaps to Dracula, that they were able to discuss this so candidly. Perhaps because she had Madalina, who felt like her own child at this point, that Ileana finally didn't experience the usual jealousy that accompanied the brides and their interactions with Dracula. After all, she had something they all wanted; a living, breathing, loving child to care for. All that aside, the thought of a vampire birthing was strangely fascinating, and it peaked her the scientific side of her curiosity.

"Has Aleera been pregnant before?"

"Several times," Dracula sighed. "They all have experienced a pregnancy at some point, but until we met you and your uncle, all the offspring went to waste."

"To… waste?"

"Nothing came of them, and I was forced to dispose of the bodies," Dracula clarified, his voice suddenly a little tense. "It was very stressful for my brides, and their anguish… I need success, Ileana."

She met his eyes. They were hollow, vacant and yet something in his voice indicated they should have been wretched with emotion. He did care for his brides, that much was apparent. A niggling feeling in her stomach arose and she wondered if he truly was using her to satisfy the needs of three other women, but as he leaned forward and kissed her, all worries seemed to melt away. She closed her eyes, sighing happily and cupped his face in her hands. Now that she was back at this castle, a slightly more romanticized version of Ileana threatened to surface. This past month consisted of angry sex, vicious bouts of lust, and dangerous liaisons on rooftops. However, being back in this familiar place of innocence, Ileana felt something different stir inside her. She wanted some closeness again. She wanted affection, and she wanted it without feeling guilty.

"I have a surprise for you," he told her when he finally broke the kiss. Ileana quirked an eyebrow and almost protested when he stepped away to grab something off the nearby sofa. When he returned, he had a wine bottle in his hand, but she was quite sure there was no wine. Dracula held it up for her to see, a bit of a quirked grin on his lips, and then cleared his throat, "It's very old… very rich."

"Oh?"

"Belonged to a king."

Ileana giggled at the joke and took the bottle in her hands, examining the blood in the light of the fire, "It looks delicious."

"I've been saving it," he told as he strolled across the room, removing two thin glasses from a cabinet. Ileana pursed her lips.

"Saving it for what?"

"I hadn't really known until today," Dracula replied, setting the glasses beside her and taking the bottle from her hand. He popped the cork and let her lick the bottom, and then filled both glasses. "I think it's an appropriate time. Aleera is pregnant, you are back with Madalina, and we are going to start a hopefully successful project again tomorrow night. It is a good time, my dear."

She paused for a moment, staring at the deep, dark, and no doubt cold blood in her glass. Finally, she nodded and touched the brim of her glass to his, "I agree. Cheers, my love."

They drank their blood and Ileana nearly purred in ecstasy. It was absolutely lovely, and made up for the horrid taste of bread today in a way she couldn't have possibly imagined. Without another word, he took her hand and eased her off the game table, and the two took up a spot on one of his plush couches. She curled into his chest, her legs tucked beneath her, and happily sipped at her drink for some time. With an arm around her shoulder, Dracula also drank and fiddled with pieces of her hair. When she glanced up on occasion, he wasn't looking at her, but staring out at nothing vacantly, no doubt in thought. When she finished her drink, she leaned forward and set her empty glass on the coffee table. She then nestled back into the crook of his arm.

"I… I had a thought the other day," Ileana said finally, a little hesitant to give him her brilliant idea so soon, "about the experiment."

"Hmm?"

"Well, we should have no problem creating the machinery again," she began, sitting up a little so that they could look at one another. "Igor was more than able to manipulate the metal without my uncle, and I'm sure there are some more medical facilities that are throwing away old parts. That isn't our problem."

"No… You made that abundantly clear the last time we tried to start again," he droned with a slight bit of annoyance in his tone. Ileana cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, that time when you backhanded me across the face after you had just killed my uncle?" she mused lightly, "Yes, how terrible of me."

"That's beside the point-"

"It is," she ground out firmly, a little irked that he had brought up that period. However, he was just being a little sour that they hadn't been able to start last time, and she moved forward quickly. "What we need is a way to collect the power source, in our case electricity, to connect with the machinery and send it to your offspring."

"We… do."

"We need cables and connectors, along with momentous amounts of free space," she stated, ticking off a few things on her hands, "but most of all we need a conductor. The electricity might just hit our machines and keep traveling into the ground. The purpose of our Creature before, I assume, was that he could take the electricity and pass it safely onto the rest of the machines without us losing it in the air or the ground."

There was a sudden realization in his eyes, and suddenly he smiled, "My love, you are absolutely brilliant!"

"Not really," she chuckled as he kissed her hard on the cheek. "I think you figured it out… We need a body to replace the Creature. Something to conduct the electricity from the receptors in the sky to our machinery, and then have it carry to your children."

"Are you suggesting a person as a conductor?"

"Oh, I don't know," she insisted, shaking her head slightly. "It would be a little impossible, don't you think? Lightning murders people… I don't think a human could sustain such an impact."

"Perhaps…" he trailed off. "What is we found a way to reduce the voltage, but the conductor would sustain the barrage of electricity for longer?"

"I… suppose," Ileana frowned. "I need to read up on it… Is there a medical centre we can visit?"

"I know of one in Bucharest."

"Can we go?"

"Ileana-"

"To check for medical equipment… and I might find a doctor I can speak with regarding the human body, perhaps borrow a textbook," she argued, sitting up a little straighter as the thought of a trip to a potentially top notch medical building flooded through. "We could go under the guise of becoming patrons. What do you think?"

"I think you want to have some fun in Bucharest," he mused, tapping his finger against her cheek to chide her. She shrugged.

"If you say so, but think of Aleera… think of your children," Ileana continued. "Don't you want success?"

"You are so devious," he growled, grasping her by the neck and dragging her down to him, lips crushing together perfectly. She knew she had won him over.

"Ileana!"

A high-pitched, slightly frantic shout came from the doorway, and Ileana quickly withdrew herself from Dracula's arms. She spotted a very cross looking Madalina standing in her bed clothes, arms folded across her chest, and a small stuffed bear hanging down her side.

"You _said_ you would come say good night!" the girl insisted firmly, almost stomping her foot a little. Dracula rolled his eyes irritably, and Ileana managed to stand up without too much adjusting of her dress.

"Oh, darling, I just got distracted," she said honestly, shooting her lover a wink over her shoulder as she quickly marched over to Madalina, careful not to move at the speed of a vampire. "Come along… Let's tuck you and your bear into bed, finally."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**English Draughts is actually the legit name for checkers. Who would have thought? I was kind of excited writing intelligent!Ileana again. It's been a while since she used her brains, and considering that's why Dracula fell for her, we need to get her back in there. **

**I also can't tell if Dracula is being manipulative of her affections, or he genuinely adores her. Even to me, I'm at a bit of a loss at the moment. **

**Also. LOL at cockblock Madalina. Always fun to have a kid around, eh, Dracula?**


	28. Medical Jargon

_You made my heart melt, yet I'm cold to the core,  
But rumour has it I'm the one you're leaving her for_

Adele – _Rumour has it_

Bucharest was, in a word, charming. Ileana had never actually been to the capital city of a country that she had lived in for the better portion of her life. It was a country she assumed she would be spending a large chunk, perhaps a century, of this new life in, so why not start exploring it as soon as possible? She wanted it to feel like home, and the only way that would happen was if she knew every single inch of it down to the last detail. She knew the village by now, along with the mountainous outskirts and castles within them. There was still so much more of the Romanian territory to explore, but she was sure that she now had a lifetime to do it. It hardly took more than a few persuasive conversations to convince Dracula of her plan to visit a particularly large, but poorly funded, hospital in the capital city. She argued that they could purchase old medical equipment, learn who supplied the facility with cables and the like, and find a modern medical textbook with intimate details about the human body. Ileana was most interested in finding the book. The rest of the supplies she knew her lover searched for could be purchased from somewhere else, if necessary. However, this hospital was where some of the region's ground-breaking experiments were conducted, according to stories her uncle told her, and she knew that it would be the place to go in order to learn anything worthwhile about the capabilities of the human body.

And so, Ileana did something she would have never thought herself possible of doing; she permitted Verona to tend to Madalina while she and Dracula were away for the two day trip to Bucharest. She hadn't felt comfortable at the thought if Igor minding her, and the last nanny was such a disaster that she found her trust lacking when it came to unfamiliar women. However, Dracula had expressed Verona's long-standing desire to become a mother, and Ileana decided this could just be the gesture that might bring the two together, even if it was just a little. The only condition was that Verona live at Castle Frankenstein, and during the period she was not allowed to hunt, or give any indication that any of them were supernatural beings. The subject had never been approached with Madalina, and Ileana was still trying to decide when the right time would come to discuss it. The girl would have to learn what she was at some point, but Ileana feared the local community's superstitions could be the final undoing of their relationship. Therefore, before Ileana left, she had to hear from Verona's pale lips that she would keep their true selves a secret. Dracula seemed less than impressed with the idea, but he understood all the same. Much to her surprise, Verona was compliant with all of her demands, and even smiled warmly when Madalina gave her a bit of a shy smile from behind Ileana's skirts.

After she hugged her girl farewell, the two were off just after the evening sun faded into darkness. They took to the skies, interweaving through the air in an acrobatic show that was bound to impress any circus. The cool air against her skin was refreshing, and they even flew through several storm clouds on the way, coming out thoroughly soaked on the other side, but in remarkably good spirits. She was well aware they were both excited for this trip, but for vastly different reasons. Ileana wanted to see Bucharest, and she was extremely keen on getting inside a prominent medical facility, with, perhaps, the chance of an offer to study there is she expressed an interest. Meanwhile, her lover was interested in getting the medical equipment necessary at a reasonable price, and that was it. Getting the supplies meant they were one step closer to starting the experiment. A week had passed since Aleera discovered she was pregnant, and since then Dracula had been in a remarkably good mood. Ileana knew, however, that the good mood stemmed from his confidence that the experiment would kick off as soon as the purchased medical equipment arrived back at the castle. She kept her worries about more hold-ups to herself. After all, they still needed to find a way to pass the electricity safely to the offspring without losing it, and that, currently, was their biggest challenge.

Although all of this experiment talk did bring up old feelings about the issues that followed her uncle's death, a large part of her felt excited to be a scientist again. She had been tutoring Madalina since she took her in, but it was hardly at the educational level to stimulate her. As mixed as her feelings were about the experiment in general, Ileana felt a tingle of excitement every time she opened her own personal notebook, a rather elegant one Dracula had purchased her about a week ago, which was already halfway full of sketches and notes, along with recollections from the last time she worked in the laboratory. It was, in a way, thrilling to work again. It was something that she had put off for such a long time because of the emotional baggage that went with it, but now that she was back in the laboratory again, only once or twice with Igor, she remembered why she loved working with her uncle so much. It wasn't just him that attracted her to the realm of science; Ileana had a genuine intellectual interest in it too. Therefore, the closer she and Dracula were to Bucharest with each beat of their giant wings, the more excited she felt herself become.

They arrived a day before their appointment with the head of the hospital. Dracula must have been very persuasive in his letter, because her uncle had tried for years to get himself a meeting with the chief researcher at the institution and was always politely postponed for another time. Perhaps some of it had to do with the fact that Dracula offered to become a patron, buy laboratory equipment, and volunteer to build a new wing if he enjoyed his visit. All her uncle had back in the day were the dastardly experiments he had to his name, and a small sum of money for travels. Her Count wielded much more power than her uncle ever had, or ever would, and she knew it was to their advantage. It also came in handy when searching for a hotel room. They opted for the most opulent place in the city, along the river, and she watched with a sly grin as Dracula insisted that they be given a room for the night. They could have easily spent the night awake, but he insisted they appear like any natural human couple. It was all for show, apparently. They were given a deliciously large room on the top floor, and while she picked out her outfit for the following day, he went to procure something to eat. Her lover returned in less than an hour through their impressive window, an unconscious, dirty man in his arms, and Ileana fell upon him with a hunger she had kept at bay ever since she returned to live with Madalina.

With the body completely drained, they hurled it out of the window and into the icy river, her lips pursed as it floated for a moment or so before being swept it downstream. She couldn't get enough of the city. It was, by far, the largest she had ever seen, which greatly amused her lover. She remarked that she certainly hadn't had the luxury to travel on a whim in her youth, something she planned to change now that she had eternity to do so. They fell into a familiar dance; flirtation, soft caresses, a tug on her hair, and lips meeting for their individual surrender to one another. Ileana pouted when he pulled her away from the glorious window, so he came up with a compromise in silence. He dragged the supple, high-backed chair across the room and sat her down in front of it, and then kneeled. An eyebrow arched as he slid up her dress to bury his face between her thighs. A little shocked, she settled back in the chair, hands gripping the arm rests, and continued to examine the city through her window. Eventually, her lust became more than his mouth could satisfy, and she fell to him in reckless abandon on the floor of their exquisite hotel room.

Morning came swiftly, and Ileana watched her lover slowly morph the clouds into the perfect sort of day weather for vampires. From there, they dressed and effectively changed themselves into the proper aristocratic couple they ought to be for the day. He replaced his usual black attire with a charcoal grey, though the structure of his suit and riding boots remained the same as ever. She watched him dress from the confines of their mostly unused bed, her lengthy brown hair tucked behind her naked shoulders. Eventually, he dragged her out and thrust her dress into her hand, and she dressed slowly, letting his eyes linger for a few minutes more. Finally, he helped her lace up the back of her dark emerald dress in a way that would have broken human ribs, but now merely made her glance over her shoulder and arch an eyebrow, which earned her a cheeky smile. Although she would have preferred to wear her hair down, she knew that noble women did not. Instead, those who were affianced to a man, as their story went for the good doctors, always wore their hair up to spurn the advances of other men. Ileana thought it might be fun to be a little flirtatious, but Dracula had insisted that she was more than capable of persuading men of science with just her words. The beauty, he argued, was simply an added bonus.

He was rather affectionate as they strolled out of the hotel, an arm around her waist, whispering delicious reminders of the previous night in her ear. If she was human, she might have blushed something awful, but she could now hold her demeanour out in public. Few looked at them as they marched through the fairly lively streets. The human world was still trying to get through the winter months, but she noticed that the river was no longer completely frozen, which meant they were succeeding into late winter. The temperature barely had an effect on her anymore, and she only noticed it when she really forced herself to pay attention to the outdoor elements. The only sensation that was almost overpowering for the young vampire was the sound of every individual beating heart on the street. Her eyes darting around, picking up on the ones that sounded strong and healthy with an almost reckless abandonment. Although she was in control of her cravings by now, it was a strained control, at best, and if Dracula hadn't been there to distract her attention, she might have mauled someone in the street. With the blood of her previous night's victim still fresh in her, Ileana knew she would be able to keep herself in check until the end of their visit.

The hospital was located on a sprawling property on the outskirts of the city. It once belonged to an Austrian lord two centuries earlier, but was abandoned amid warfare and strife. The place was empty until about twenty years ago when two doctors from Britain and Germany purchased it together, and turned it into the medical marvel of Eastern Europe that it was today. Although it was better off than many institutions in the region, Ileana knew they struggled on the upkeep, and were no doubt hungrily awaiting their arrival if it meant more money in their pockets.

Ileana spotted the gates to the institution before Dracula, and picked up the pace. However, her lover tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her back, shooting her a look, "Patience, Ileana. Remember who you are today."

She pushed her nose up the air, arching an eyebrow, "I shall try to retain my air of nobility."

"Only in front of the good doctors," he mused, a smirk pale on his lips as they approached the iron division between public and private property. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat and retrieved a rather large key. "It arrived for me a few days ago… Apparently they are not sending anyone to greet us."

"How terribly rude," Ileana droned, her head cocked to the side as he slid the key into a small opening at the side of the main gate. After turning it sharply, she heard the lock click open, and the pair slipped inside a small opening.

"What happens if they decide not to sell us their medical equipment?"

"That is an unlikely consequence of our meeting," he insisted as they strolled along a stone walkway to the dark, looming building up ahead. "They seemed eager to get rid of some of the older equipment."

"We cannot take it if it will fall apart when lightning strikes," Ileana reminded him, wrapping her arm around his in an attempt to feign coldness, should someone be watching from one of the various windows in the hospital. "Don't let yourself be swindled."

"I have been making business deals for centuries, Ileana," he reminded her. He then grasped the thick metal handle of the door and pulled lightly, the sound of the hinges squeak bothering her a little. "I think I am influential enough to persuade a group of mortals to part of their wasted machinery."

"I suppose," she sighed dramatically, holding in a giggle when he shot a slightly irritated glare her way. Clearly he wasn't having as much fun with their nobility disguise as Ileana. They stepped inside and out of the winter wind, though there was no chance in the temperature against her skin. When she picked up on the sounds of footsteps, accompanied by a pair of beating hearts, she quickly pinched her cheeks as hard as she could in an effort to make them look red from the wind. Whether or not it worked was up for debate, but she tried her best to look chilled as a pair of men came into view from a small doorway. They had entered what appeared to be a grand foyer, but Ileana could hear countless machines at work elsewhere in the building, along with dozens of weakly beating hearts to the left, which she assumed was the patient ward.

The two men approached the pair quickly, and Ileana took in their appearance before anything was said. One was a little on the wider side, with a thick head of curly blond hair, pale skin, and bright green eyes. The other was almost his exact opposite; tall, thin, with receding black hair atop his angular head. There was no warmth in his eyes, and his heart beat slower than his companion's. However, as they drew closer, he managed to smile at Dracula, both men ignoring her as they extended their greetings.

"Count!" The blond beamed, his English accent thick as he held out his hand to shake her lover's, "So wonderful that you could come on such short notice. I hope travel hasn't been too terrible? The weather has been particularly foul this year."

Dracula kept his hands clasped behind his back, glanced down at the extended hand for half a second, and then bowed a little, his voice pleasant enough, "I am accustomed to this sort of weather, Doctor Vincent."

"Oh, yes, of course," the man babbled, retracting his hand when he no doubt realized Dracula was not going to shake it. "Well, these are nothing like English winters, I'm afraid. Even after living here for ten years, I still can't seem to get used to them."

"The English have always been poor when it comes to real European climate," his companion remarked, nodding his head at Dracula. "I am Herr Moser. We were not in contact, but my partner has told me all about your interest in our facility."

"My fiancé was the one who convinced me to take any sort of notice to the hospital," Dracula informed them, glancing at Ileana. "I am pleased she did."

"Ileana Frankenstein," she beamed, holding out her hand for this Vincent fellow to take, hyping up her accent a touch so that they might have an instant connection. He took her gloved hand and brought it up, a grin on his lips.

"Always a pleasure to meet an English rose this far from home," he stated, quick to release her hand when Dracula cleared his throat lightly. "Now, uh, did you say Frankenstein? As in Victor Frankenstein?"

"My uncle," she replied, noting the almost subtle look that was exchanged between the two doctors.

"And how is the old fellow?" he inquired, arms folded across his white laboratory coat. "We were surprised not to get a letter from him this year."

"He passed away," Ileana remarked stiffly. "Pneumonia during a stay in the Carpathians was his undoing, unfortunately."

Vincent's cheeks tinted a hint, as though embarrassed to have brought it up, and he quickly cleared his throat, "Well, I offer my sincerest condolences-"

"Thank you," she said quickly, cutting him off. "I am sure my being here would be more than enough to make him happy."

She raised her eyebrow just a hint, indicating that she knew of their dislike for her uncle, and perhaps their mockery of him too. However, she said nothing about it, and simply placed her hand on Dracula's arm, "Do we have time for a tour before you see the equipment, dearest?"

"A short one," Dracula replied as he glanced down at her. "You know we must leave by the evening."

"I know," she sighed, "but I was hoping our hosts would be so kind as to show us the facilities… My fiancé and I have discussed becoming patrons permanently, and I want to ensure our funds are going to the proper place."

The mention of money and patronage seemed to bring the German fellow to life, and he graciously offered a guided tour of the entire facility. Dracula informed him that would not be necessary, and Ileana assumed it was because he personally didn't care for anything other than the medical equipment. However, Ileana left his side and walked between the two doctors, an arm looped around each of theirs, and began asking whatever question she could think of as they strolled further into the establishment. She knew that they had no rush to return home, and decided that her lover could contain himself until she had gotten her fill.

They visited countless rooms, from the private chambers of upper-class patients to shared dormitories for those who could not afford such luxuries. Operating rooms, staff eateries, wardrobes, closets, until they finally ended with a quick glimpse into each of the doctors' private offices. At that point, Dracula put his foot down and insisted that they view the equipment for sale. To the men he might have seemed frightening in his irritated state, but Ileana brushed it off without a second thought, lingering in the doorway of Vincent's office when she spied several books along a dusty wooden shelf. The titles leapt out at her; anatomy, physiology, the humours, and surgery.

"Are you coming, Madam Frankenstein?" the human doctor inquired, back at her side awkwardly as Dracula and Moser continued in a different direction. "I thought you might like to see the medical equipment-"

"I'm sure my husband will make an adequate choice," she told him briskly as she stepped into his office. "I am more interested in your books… Would you mind if I had a look?"

"Oh, no, I suppose not," he replied, but she was already inside the office. Ileana had to remind herself to march slowly, lest her vampiric speed be her undoing in front of the good doctor. The first volume she took from the shelf was one about anatomy, and she leaned back on his desk, forgoing her fake nobility guise to devour the images and tiny writing on the first few pages. It was more detailed than any book she had ever read on the subject. Her uncle had had some before, and Ileana sped through them eagerly when she was younger. However, this was something that would take time to read and study. There were more parts named on the human body than she had seen in previous texts, and she couldn't wait to sift through it from the comforts of her library back home.

A soft chuckle tore her away from the book, and she glanced up curiously at the human, whose heart pounded in his chest when their eyes met. He found her attractive. She must have made him anxious.

"Is there something amusing to you, Doctor?" she inquired lightly, shutting the book and holding it to her chest. He shrugged.

"I have never seen a lady take such an interest in my books before," he told her, his hands in his pockets. "Women tend to steer away from such… vulgar subjects."

"My fiancé encourages me to broaden my mind in all fields," Ileana insisted. "I am a Frankenstein, after all. Science runs in our blood."

"I suppose I should have assumed as much."

"May I propose something to you?" she asked, pursing her lips as she fluttered her eyelashes at him slightly. He blushed, but clearly tried to keep himself casual.

"Anything you would like."

"I have yet to find a text so detailed," she told him, nodding down to the book. "Is there any chance I might be able to borrow it for a time? You have so many that are not open to me outside this hospital, and my curiosity has been tickled."

She smiled a smile she knew flattered her cheekbones and made her eyes sparkle. It wasn't often she used her charms on a man. In fact, Dracula was really the only man she had _ever_ used any sort of feminine qualities on, and look where that got her. However, the way it made his heart pound was absolutely delicious, and she almost couldn't help herself.

"Well," he started, "they are rather… expensive texts, and they have been generously donated by the Royal Medical Society in Britain…"

"Then I shall guard them with my life," Ileana told him seriously, hugging the text even tighter to her body. He still seemed hesitant, despite the way his heart pounded. Nibbling on her lip, Ileana decided to take it a step further. She eased herself off his desk and sauntered toward him, "Is there something else I can do?"

He swallowed thickly, but said nothing. She could smell his nervous sweat from across the room, and it grew more repugnant as she got closer, "Perhaps my fiancé could pay a little more… Or… perhaps…"

She leaned in a little closer, her eyes cast down submissively, "You and I could do a little lending program of our own. You could give me something, and in return, I could give you something… You'll see that I'm a very generous woman."

Suddenly, she felt him run a finger tentatively along her forearm across her chest, his heart a blur to her, and she looked up a hint, surprised by the ease of his seduction. Now, she was fairly sure she could take it about a step further, but something else came into her line of sight, and she decided to shift tactics a little. Dracula and Moser approached swiftly, and seemed to have settled their business. Her lover seemed pleased, and the human doctor had a very relaxed way about him, meaning things had gone just as they both desired. She smirked.

"Oh, darling, that was quick," she said quickly, trying to seem as flustered as Vincent was at her "fiancé's" return. Dracula looked between Ileana and the reddening doctor, and then rolled his eyes a little, catching on to her game faster than she expected.

"Everything went smoothly," he informed her. "The equipment is exactly what I have been looking for."

"I'm sure the village doctors will be thrilled with the new additions," Moser added, giving her lover a bit of an appraising smile. "It is wonderful that you treating them so."

"Yes, he is so generous," Ileana sighed, shooting him a somewhat dreamy look. "Do you know what else is wonderful? Doctor Vincent has kindly offered to lend me a few of his medical textbooks so that I may do some studying of my own. Isn't that lovely?"

"Thank you, Doctor," Dracula intoned lightly, giving him a bit of a nod. "My Ileana was so excited at the possibility of finding something she could really… sink her teeth into while she was here."

"Oh, and I did," Ileana purred, giving Vincent a bit of a look. He blushed again, and she slipped past him delicately, gripping the book close to her. "Why don't you send your book on physiology with the equipment? I'll write you a lovely letter to let you know it arrived safely."

"I… Yes… I can do that," he muttered, scratching the back of his head as he avoided eye contact with Dracula.

"That concludes our business," Dracula said after a moment or so of rather tense silence. "You have the location of my castle?"

"Yes, yes of course," Moser replied as they started to walk away from the audience, Ileana at her lover's side after shooting Vincent a coquettish look over her shoulder. Who knows? She might need him again. Ileana barely listened as the two men concluded their deal. All she could think about was getting back to the hotel to spend the night engrossed in her new book. Once they had officially departed the hospital, Dracula swept her to his side with a strong arm around her waist, his lips to her neck.

"You're terrible," he whispered after a few quick kisses. "He'll be in love with you for the rest of his life."

"If he can find me books like these, I won't deter him," she insisted, leaning up on the tips of her toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Now take me back to the hotel. The world is dead to me until I finish the first chapter."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Good god that was a long time between updates. I've got heaps of muse for this story now, but school work and things have been keeping me from updating. **

**But I like the way this relationship of theirs is progressing. It's something different to what I have done before… It's comfortable, and I like it. Of course, drama is always lurking, but we'll sit in our happy fog of romance for now. **

**I don't know how many of you are aware, but there is a poll at the moment for the top four stories of mine, and those will be the ones I update and only the ones I update. So if you'd like to see this story continued, head on over and vote on my profile. The poll is up for the rest of the week, and I'll put the results out on Monday. This story is doing well, so I wouldn't be concerned. **

**Much love to my solid reviewers and supporters! This story has been going for AGES, but I've got a lot more to go, and might turn into one of my longest. I've already got ideas for a sequel and prequel, so this world will be around for a while. **


	29. It's a crying shame

_All of these words whispered in my ear_

_Tell a story that I cannot bear to hear_

_Rumour has it - _Adele

Winter melted into spring remarkably quick that year. Ileana couldn't remember if the seasons had changed that quickly during her first years in Transylvania, but it really seemed to fly this time around. She and Dracula arrived back at Castle Frankenstein some days after they left the capital city, preferring to take a leisurely, scenic route home. The equipment wasn't said to arrive for another few weeks, and with some spare time on their hands, they actually enjoyed themselves. She had never heard of him doing this with his other brides. Not that she considered herself a bride, but they were all women romantically involved with the man, and for a brief moment, Ileana felt superior. However, that moment faded rather quick when she recalled that none of them would have chosen to share their lover if they could, and it wasn't fair to make it a competition. While the rest of them may try to outdo one another, Ileana decided that she ought to be above petty games. Instead, she simply enjoyed the relaxed time with Dracula.

They flitted from village to village, picking off a person here and there. Occasionally they would stay in a fine countryside manor owned by a nobleman who knew of the Count's status. It was bliss. Neither spoke about their experiment, though she was sure he was itching to get back to it. Instead, they discussed everything but; politics, history, science, children and war. Europe had been embroiled in war for years now, and although it barely affected them in their small Romanian village, she was sure one year it would penetrate the countryside and they would be forced to contain the violence. The way her lover spoke of war, particularly his time embroiled in battle against the Ottomans, made her suspect he was not particularly eager for wide-spread human conflict. He was good at war. He was a tactical man, both powerful and efficient, and she was sure being an immortal who couldn't die would help should the trouble even end up on their doorstep. However, Dracula wanted domination of a different kind. Mortal battles seemed almost inconsequential to him, and she concluded that they were to her too. Naturally, whenever word reached her ears about troubles in England, she fretted a little. The remainder of her family inhabited their ancestral homes, and although they were never really close, she would feel something if they were victims of politic warfare.

Their vacation was brief, and after only four days Ileana started to pester him about returning. Madalina was sure to miss her, and she certainly didn't want to leave the little girl alone for too long. As she suspect, the blonde darling was all smiles when she strolled into the castle, eager to even start on some arithmetic if it meant spending time with her. For that short period, Ileana almost felt complete. Dracula visited frequently, but was gone for long enough that she didn't miss him while she enjoyed some time by herself and with Madalina. The little girl was so brilliant, and under Ileana's tutoring, was speaking complex English sentences in the late spring. Her reading had improved tenfold from the previous year, and even her mathematical skills were flourishing. Well, that may have been too strong a word, but she was doing much better than before.

Their instruments arrived promptly, and Ileana immersed herself in the medical textbooks whenever she had a spare moment. While Dracula and Igor sent up a completely new laboratory, Ileana spent most of the time seated on the mantel, legs swinging lazily as she quickly scanned images and blocks of texts regarding the strength of the human frame. Everything that she had read indicated that a human would not be able to withstand the trauma of an intense bolt of lightning. She brought it up repeatedly to Dracula once the lab was in place, but he seemed quite assured that they simply needed to find the right person to absorb the trauma. Igor had no opinion on the matter, but when asked directly, he seemed more inclined to agree with Dracula, which was frustrating. There was no one else willing to hear her out, and although Madalina was curious about what they were actually doing in the lab, she wasn't about to spill all her secret to a little girl. Whenever she did show too much interest, Ileana usually swept her away from the doors and read her a story, or played hide-and-go-seek somewhere else in the castle.

It wasn't that Madalina would be unable to comprehend what they were doing in the laboratory. Instead, Ileana simply wanted to keep her from knowing the whole truth about her life. The girl already had suspicions about Ileana's true being – clearly she hadn't forgotten Ileana's horrid attempt to drain her of her life's fluids. Therefore, Ileana wanted to shield her from their dark deeds for as long as possible. However, she wasn't sure how long that would be if Madalina heard the horrible, dying wails of men being electrocuted in their crudely-made experimental contraptions.

They simply needed to be a conductor, these humans, but after all her reading, Ileana was convinced that they would fry instantly and become useless for their purpose shortly after. Dracula continued to ignore her theories on it, and instead asked her to draw countless sketches of different rooms in the castle and how they would be changed in order to suit the needs of the experiment overall. The vampire young, which were to be born soon if Ileana wasn't mistaken, would be kept in the great hall beneath the laboratory. It was a place Ileana seldom visited, and had accumulated immense amounts of dust over years of disuse. As Igor worked on connecting machines to other machines in the lab, a feat in itself, Ileana had to handle space issues within the castle itself. Vampires were, supposedly, to give birth to hundreds of offspring in sacs the size of a boulder… Where on earth was she supposed to put all of these?

Dracula seemed oblivious to her concerns. In fact, he seemed to disregard almost anything that could be seen as a problem. She wasn't sure if the pregnancy was pushing him to rush ahead, or if he was simply too excited to have everything in place at this point to care about her insignificant concerns. Whatever the case may be, he usually brushed her off, sometimes kindly, but occasionally with a slight bite to his tone, and after a few weeks of this treatment, she felt less inclined to discuss the experiment at all with him. Instead, she voiced all of her issues to Igor and hoped that just one might slip through to her lover's deaf ears. They had somehow been living in harmony ever since their trip to Bucharest, and Ileana wasn't in the mood to bring any tension into the relationship because he was overlooking rather extraordinary details about his experiment. He would figure it out when they failed the first time. Yes, it would be highly upsetting to lose all those children, but after he would learn to actually listen to constructive criticism from Ileana. A pity he had to learn it the hard way.

It was officially late April, and it was just warm enough for Madalina to run around outside without any sort of extra garments to keep her warm. Ileana insisted that she wear a long-sleeved dress, one that she had tailored for her in the village secretly, but otherwise she was free to run about as she pleased. Somehow Ileana had persuaded Dracula to take the day off, as they had been working almost day and night for the last five days to ensure everything was ready for the birthing, which was scheduled for the following weekend. Ileana still hadn't quite figured out what to do with Madalina during that time, but she pushed it from her mind and opted to spend some quality time with her instead. She noticed that the girl was a little wary of Dracula still, and no doubt with good reason, so she insisted that he join them in their games outside.

Before the little girl awoke, Ileana prepared a lovely assortment of food goods in a neat basket. Dracula ensured the weather would remain just cloudy enough to give them adequate cover, and when all was set, she dragged Madalina out of bed. She explained they were going to spend the day outside, just the three of them, and Dracula was going to show them the mountains now that most of the snow had melted on the lower peaks. It might only be temporary, as it was an unusually warm spring, but Ileana decided it was now or never to take her little girl exploring. The upcoming months would be hectic and she knew she wouldn't be able to spend as much time with her as she wished.

So, with Madalina dressed and ready, Ileana slung her up on her back, legs wrapped around her waist, and started their hike on a cheerful note. Dracula carried their food, mostly for show, and to his credit seemed in a pleasant enough mood to keep from frightening Madalina. The little girl was thrilled. They seldom ventured beyond the castle grounds, and as soon as they were at the base of a mountain, hundreds of questions poured out of her. She wanted to know about every flower they spotted, why the mountains were so high, how they were made, what kind of animals would they spot… Some of the questions Ileana could answer, while she deferred the ones about local geography to Dracula. He handled Madalina very well. He was calm, explained thing plainly enough for her to understand, and even offered to carry her up into a mysterious looking cave, ignoring the way she squealed once they were in the darkness.

He was going to be a good father, whether he could see it now or not. Naturally, Ileana was at a complete loss about how they would handle hundreds of little vampires, but that would be settled once they actually got them to live longer than a few hours. The trio kept low enough on the mountain for Madalina. They didn't want to appear inhuman in their ability to scale the monstrous thing in an hour or two, so they paused on a perch halfway up to let Madalina eat her lunch. Dracula turned away food, but Ileana put on a bit of a show, munching on some bread and fruit. It was horrible. Human food had lost all taste to her now, and it seemed extremely dry easing its way down her throat. Mercifully, Dracula slipped in a bottle of blood for the two to enjoy, and when Madalina asked to try, Ileana refused, stating that wine wasn't meant for someone her age.

When they finished what she considered a very pleasant lunch, they descended back down the mountain's gentle slope, this time letting Madalina run free, her lengthy blonde hair whipping about in the wind. They changed their course back to the castle, opting to go directly through the surrounding forest. Madalina stopped them, demanding to play a game halfway through, to which Ileana obliged without question. Dracula seemed a little antsy to return, but he indulged both girls in a quick game of hide-and-go-seek, despite the fact that finding Madalina was almost as easy as breathing. She made so much noise giggling, on top of her racing heart and heavy breathing. To his credit, Dracula found Ileana first, catching her up a tree and stealing a quick kiss before they searched for the little girl, spending a great deal of time being very dramatic about not being able to find her. Eventually, she revealed herself from behind a bush where they had known she was hiding in quite a state about Dracula's suggestion of leaving her in the woods for the night.

From there, Dracula left the two, insisting he return to check on the lab proceedings with Igor one last time. Ileana didn't complain. Instead, she smiled and waved him off, giving chase to Madalina as the little girl tried to hide again behind some thin trees.

"Oh goodness," Ileana laughed as she pretended not to see a curl from Madalina's hair behind a tree. "I've lost Madalina again!"

She ignored the giggle that followed and checked behind a push, her hands on her hips, "No, not here."

Footsteps echoed noisily behind her, and she sighed, giving the little girl a bit of a head start as she dashed off into the woods. There wasn't any harm in letting her run; Ileana could catch up with her in an instant, if she wished, and could hear for any dangers if the need arose. Inhaling deeply, she finally turned around and leisurely followed in Madalina's general direction. The fresh leaves bustled above her, and Ileana could hear the soft hum of insects for the first time that year. Everything was coming back to life with the arrival of spring. Well, except for Ileana. She pursed her lips at the thought, and then brushed it away. No time for sadness when she and Madalina were having such a wonderful day outside.

They played games in the castle, yes, but Ileana noticed that lately most of their interaction had been around academic affairs. She had been so focused on bringing Madalina up to some high level of intelligence that she sometimes forgot the little girl was so young, and really ought to enjoy her childhood before it was taken from her.

When Ileana finally caught up with Madalina, the little girl was crouched behind a rather small rock, head tucked down under her arms. With a smirk, Ileana crept up as softly as she could, her footsteps hardly creating a sound on the earth beneath them. Suddenly, she lunged behind the rock and laughed, tickling Madalina in the process. The little girl squealed and took off running, her heart pounding ferociously in her little chest. Many months ago, it would have spurred Ileana into a hunt, but now she simply pursued the girl for the fun of it all. They dashed around trees, under fallen branches, and through a cool spring. In the heat of their game, Ileana tuned out everything else, focusing solely on the little angel running in front of her. Unfortunately, it proved to be her undoing.

The girl was out of her sight, but not out of her hearing. Ileana focused in on her heart, as it sounded glorious in her ears. Suddenly, a shrill scream replaced it, bringing her back to reality with crushing speed. In an instant she was by Madalina's side, dragging her behind her and out of any harm, whether it be beast, man or plant. The startle Madalina faced was from a group of men, villagers no doubt, who were armed with long rifles. Her inhuman speed gave something away, and Ileana raised her chin defiantly as several of them raised their weapons.

She could escape in an instant, if she wished, but she worried what the jerky motion might do to Madalina. Instead, she held her ground in anticipation for a shot. She knew she couldn't die, but she had still yet to experience anything that would amount to a great deal of physical pain. Would she feel any of it? What if their guns had a particular kind of bullet in it?

"Hold your fire," a familiar voice barked, and Ileana watched curiously as the crowd parted. Madalina peered around her waist as Prince Velkan emerged from the group, eyes fixed on Ileana intently. Would he see the difference in her? For a moment, she felt ashamed of what she had become.

"Your men gave my girl quite a fright," Ileana insisted after the silence became almost too painful. "They should be more careful."

Velkan continued to stare at her, seemingly dumbfounded that she stood before him, and then took a step forward, "How did he find you?"

Her resolve faltered, and she shrugged weakly, "I don't know."

"Why are you here?"

"I'm living and working in the castle," she told him quietly. "I don't want any trouble."

He shook his head, the sound of his hands tightening on his weapon purring dangerously in Ileana's ears, "Are you like him?"

A twinge of shame bit again, but Ileana managed to keep her composure. It was difficult to face the man who had done everything in his power to help her flee. Velkan had been instrumental in her initial escape, having gone so far as to arrange safe passage on a lovely vessel for her. Yet here she stood, in the same situation as before. It had all been in vain.

"I am forever in your debt for helping me," Ileana remarked calmly, "but my current situation is no longer your concern."

"From that I can assume you two are the same then?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up. "I can only hope it wasn't by choice."

She blinked, unsure about how to proceed. With Madalina clutching at her skirts, she certainly couldn't say everything she wished to say. Instead, Ileana opted to leave the situation completely. She hoisted the small girl up and set her on her hip. Instinctively, Madalina wrapped her arms around her neck, face buried in it as Ileana cleared her throat, "You won't have any trouble from me. I'm keeping to myself with my girl."

"What a strange fantasy world you live in," the man commented dryly as Ileana turned her back to him. Her pace was brisk as she sped off, no longer able to keep up a conversation with him. For a moment, she expected to be followed. However, the walk back to the castle was completely uneventful, but something had changed in the air. Madalina must have sensed it too because she barely asked for a thing once they had returned. There was no mention of returning, or picking up the game from where they had left off. Instead, as late afternoon dwindled, Ileana told the girl to change out of her dirty clothes and she would draw a bath for her before dinner. Without another word, the girl disappeared upstairs, and Ileana stood in the entrance hall of the castle with a perplexed look on her face.

"You're upset."

It was an obvious observation, and she looked up at her lover as he descended on her from down the hall. His jacket had been discarded, and from the tinkering in the lab, it was clear he had been working with Igor since he returned less than an hour ago.

"I am."

Ileana returned her gaze to a spot on the wall. It must have been a mark left behind from when the lovely doctors' men moved in all the medical equipment some time ago. It seemed out of place. Even as Dracula touched her arm lightly, she continued to stare at it, unable to look at him.

"What happened?"

"I saw Velkan in the woods," she replied simply. Finally, she looked up at him, an overwhelming feeling of sorrow overtaking her unexpectedly. "He was with other men… They looked like they were hunting. He knows what I am now, and that I've returned."

"Did he say something?" he demanded, "He shouldn't have been so close to the castle-"

"Nothing," Ileana said quickly. "He said nothing of importance."

"Is there a reason you're so upset?"

She shook her head quickly, "I need to get Madalina into a bath. She's filthy."

"Ileana-"

"I'll join you once I finish with her," she informed him. With that, she disappeared into the tower that she and her girl called home.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello all! Happy New Year to everyone! I'm glad to finally get this update up and on the go. This story was in second place in my November polls, and will therefore be finished before all the others. This and several others are the only ones I'm working on. However, I think everyone understands the pressure that comes from school this time of year, whether you're in highschool or in university (like myself). I appreciate your patience, as always. **

**The timeline is always a little muddled to me because of the lengthy time between updates. I'm usually more on the ball once I get down to a section in the story that is coming, which is about a year before the movie timeline. However, I've roughly estimated at this point she is beginning the spring of her third year with Dracula, so we're going to take it from there. **

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Fingers crossed for an update sometime soon… if school doesn't beat me into a feeble position in the corner. **


	30. Failure Stings

_There's no salvation for me now_

_No space among the clouds_

_And I've seen that I'm heading down_

_But that's all right_

_Lover to Lover – _Florence and the Machine

For the first time in a long time, Ileana did not wake on her own. Dracula tenderly shook her awake in the late afternoon on a dark day near the end of the winter season, purring that it was finally time to begin again.

Normally, she rose sometime in the early afternoon after retiring a half an hour before sunrise. It wasn't a lot of sleep, but Ileana found she didn't need it: sleeping was more of a formality than anything. Madalina had also become accustomed to her sleeping schedule, and while the little girl was kept up for the adequate amount during the day and night, Ileana was very lenient with her. If she wanted to sleep a little earlier than normal – which was usually sometime close to eleven at night – then Ileana was completely fine with her deciding her own sleep schedule. However, she usually slept until the late morning, and Ileana would meet her sometime later for lunch. Naturally, there were occasions when Ileana stayed away for several days. It usually happened when the weather was particularly foul, but with summer approaching in a few months, she was sure she would need to sleep more. Aleera confirmed her suspicion several days prior when she came by to give birth to her offspring, which was another situation entirely.

The woman was rotund when she arrived, looking almost broken in the middle as Dracula eased her into the castle. From that point on, Madalina was banished to her room with several new books to try and read. Ileana didn't want her seeing anything that went on from there. In fact, Ileana barely wanted to see the birthing of vampire children. After the first round of watching Aleera force enormous sacs out of her body, Ileana excused herself to check on Madalina. Birth in the human realm was, supposedly, disgusting in itself. From what she had read, there was a lot of blood and pain, and many didn't survive without the proper care. However, there was no chance of Aleera dying during the birth, but there was certainly a lot of unearthly shrieking during the process. When it was all over, the entire west wing of the castle was filled with large, green sacs, pulsating slightly as a vampire offspring continued to develop. From what she gathered, they were all still dead, and Ileana saw the heartbreak in Aleera's eyes as she departed, clearly distraught over their situation.

It was then she understood why Dracula was so intent on bringing his children to life. Considering the women had gone through this many times before in the past, Ileana couldn't imagine carrying hundreds of children for months, and then go through all the trauma of giving birth only to see them wither and die. The pain on Aleera's face was evident, but she was so hopeful when she passed Ileana that night, touching her arm reassuringly. There was a belief that the experiment would work this time, even without her uncle's Creation. It was nice to have such kind support, but Ileana kept her skepticism regarding this trial to herself. If they failed, the young would all die again.

After the young were delivered, Dracula inspected all of them as Igor and Ileana set up the proper electrical wiring to the sacs. It was easier not to look at them as little beings, but rather large, slimy balls of some organic matter. After that delicious task was completed, the trio spent several hours ensuring all the wires were properly connected to their appropriate place in the laboratory, and in the end, the entire main floor of the castle was completely layered in thick black and copper wiring. It seemed plausible, in theory, that this would be a success, but Ileana had serious doubts that gnawed away at the back of her mind.

However, she still nodded and agreed with whatever her lover said. He would need to see for himself what the faults were in the experiment this time around, and although it was unfortunate that they would have to sacrifice Aleera's children, she was sure they could get another chance. After all, there were two other women he could impregnate with no difficulties, Ileana not included. When she saw the trauma that the redheaded vampire endured giving birth, Ileana had no desire to _ever_ become pregnant. When she was first turned, she wasn't even sure it was an option to be pregnant. She wasn't sure how the physiology of it worked, but when she learned she could and the size she would become, there wasn't a single maternal bone in her body. She had her child now, and she had no desire to sire any vampire ones, even if she did devotedly love the man in her life.

Now, the progeny had been set up about a day ago, and since then, Madalina had been kept away from everything. When Dracula roused Ileana in the late afternoon, he soothed her worries about the night quickly.

"I've willed her to sleep until tomorrow morning," he informed her as she slipped out of her coffin, stretching her limbs. "She won't have any idea about what we've done tonight."

"Good," Ileana muttered, running a hand through her lengthy brown hair. "She can never know… Not yet, anyway."

"Ileana," Dracula purred, sidling up to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "When there are hundreds of Aleera's children fluttering around the castle, she'll have no choice but to know."

She pursed her lips as he kissed her neck affectionately, deciding not to comment on her disbelief in the success of the experiment, "I…suppose. When that happens, you will leave it to me to explain everything."

"Of course, my love," he told her, cupping her chin and tilting her up to meet his gaze. "She's your child… I won't interfere."

Ileana smiled weakly, pleased with the acknowledgement of her sovereignty over Madalina. Although it had always been known that the little girl looked at Ileana as a mother, Dracula had yet to state it aloud. Perhaps with the impending life of his own children, he finally realized how to draw the lines between the families.

"Now," he started, a gleam of excitement in his eyes, "get dressed and meet me in the laboratory. Igor and I will set up our first subject."

"I didn't know you found someone," Ileana said suddenly, her eyes widening a little as she started to undress. "I mean, I assumed because we were starting today, but you didn't tell me."

"I found the strongest man I know in this village," he replied, a sadistic smile on his lips, "Boris Valerious… the dear father of Velkan Valerious."

Ileana paused before she lifted her nightdress over her head, shocked about the first victim of her impending experiment. For a moment, she wasn't even sure how to feel about it. Of course, there was nothing she could do about it. The conflict between her lover and the Valerious family ran deep, and the expression on his face was one of smug victory. However, she couldn't help but feel a panic for how Velkan and his family would react to the death of their father, which was inevitable. From everything she had read, there was no way that the human body could sustain the damage they were about to inflict on it.

"Congratulations," she murmured as she dragged her nightdress over her head, tossing it aside nonchalantly. "You must be very pleased to have him."

"We both should be," he insisted, his eyes on her naked form as she rummaged through her closet to find a set of work clothes. "That family will never do anything good for us… The sooner we get rid of them, all of them, the better."

"I suppose."

"That's the truth, Ileana."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said quickly, sensing a dampening of his elated mood. She shot him a smile over her shoulder, "I understand."

She chose a dark green spring dress and slipped it over her head. It hung very loose around her body, and she grabbed a cloth belt to cinch it close to her figure. The sleeves were rolled up, and she made sure anything loose was cinched in. It was appropriate for laboratory work, as she didn't want anything to get caught somewhere and start a fire. With that sorted, she grabbed a ribbon and began looping her hair up into a thick bun.

"I'll meet you downstairs," she told him. "I just want to check on Madalina."

"She's asleep."

"I know," Ileana snapped, taking a deep breath. "I… I want to see her before we start."

"As you wish," he remarked. "I'll be starting the storm soon… Would you like to see me grow one?"

She looked up at him quickly, an eyebrow raised and curiosity peaked, "I would. I'll join you there after I see my girl."

He nodded, and then turned sharply and left the room. She stood in silence for a while, contemplating whether or not she should try to persuade them to postpone the experiment today. The electricity would kill Boris Valerious in a matter of minutes, and it seemed like they were taking far too many liberties with the man's life without knowing the full extent of the impending trauma. However, she also knew that there was no possible way she could change Dracula's mind an hour or so before they were about to start. Also, she was fairly sure he would revel in the fact that his prime enemy was going to die. For now, she would play things carefully and see if there was an opportune moment to suggest a postponement.

With her new plan in mind, she hurried down to Madalina's new room and gently opened the thick wooden door. As promised, her little girl was fast asleep in her bed, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow. She moved in carefully, her footsteps silent on the stone floor. With a smile on her lips, she leaned down and stroked her soft little face and kissed her cheek. She didn't need to see anything they were going to do tonight. After all, Madalina already suspected that she was something very different, and was still uncomfortable with the chill of her skin. There was no need to traumatize her further.

With that taken care of, she pulled the covers up a little more and then departed. She wasn't sure how Dracula had the ability to will people to do anything, but if all vampires could do it to some degree, she wanted to learn. It was bound to make things so much easier if she could just send Madalina to bed by doing that, or making Igor cook the girl meals without a fuss whenever Ileana was away. Perhaps if she watched carefully enough when he conjured the storm, she might be able to pick up on a few tricks without him directly teaching her. She wasn't a huge fan of being taught how to do every single little thing in her new life, especially since she was so proficient in her old one.

She gathered up her skirts and almost flew up the winding staircase to the entrance of the roof. The moment she opened the door, the air had already changed, and very dark, ominous storm clouds hung over the entire village. Her lover stood atop a turret, his hands clasped behind his back, the tail-ends of his riding coat flickering in the wind. She clambered up beside him, a hand clutching at the back of his jacket as she watched the storm clouds darken.

"No rain," she whispered. "We don't want anything wet."

"Of course not," he replied, eyes still trained on the sky. "It is complicated to bring a lightning storm, but doable."

"How?"

"A lot of practice," he replied, grinning a little. Suddenly, a small bolt of lightning shrieked from the sky and struck the mountain where Dracula's castle was buried. She continued to watch the clouds thicken, the air moist and a chill on the air. In the village, people scattered about, their dark figures hurrying around the city square as they no doubt gathered up their belongings before the impending storm.

"Teach me," Ileana insisted, tugging on his shirt as a pair of bolts struck into the forest. His eye twitched, and she could tell he was bringing the storm closer to the castle, as every bolt seemed to be a little closer. He glanced down at her finally, an eyebrow arched.

"Perhaps."

"No, you must!"

"Not tonight," he laughed, giving her nose a kiss. "I need all of your concentration where it belongs tonight."

"Of course!"

She was about to say something further when three familiar cries broke her train of thought. Out of the mountain erupted three white figures, and Ileana cocked her head to the side, studying her fellow female vampires as they hurtled toward them.

"They're coming to watch?"

"I believe all three will be needed when the children are alive," Dracula remarked. "They must all be taught how to feed."

"I suppose that will be a hassle," Ileana muttered. "Where will they feed? The village?"

"Yes."

Ileana stared at him for a moment, and then returned her gaze to the small village beyond the forest, "They would wipe out the entire village…"

"A necessary loss, I'm sure."

She wanted to protest. Tonight, he was too cavalier with human lives, but she then remembered how little faith she had in the success of that night, and decided to keep her mouth shut instead. As the vampire brides approached, she stepped off the turret, and instead waited for them to come to her to offer a greeting. Naturally, they all flocked to Dracula, and even in their monster-being she could see the excitement on their faces. While Verona remained at Dracula's side, Aleera and Marishka rushed to her, embracing her at the same time in a bone-crushing hug.

"Tonight is the night," Aleera giggled, cupping Ileana's face and kissing her full on the lips, much to her surprise. "Tonight we start our family!"

"Erhm, yes, we do," Ileana managed, trying to conceal her discomfort with the physical contact of another woman. Aleera barely noticed it, and instead flitted off with her blonde counterpart. Dracula seemed infinitely amused by Ileana's discomfort, but instead of openly mocking her, he swept her under his arm as he passed, the other arm snugly around Verona.

"She seems… very… excited," Ileana forced out, wrinkling her nose a little. A bolt of light suddenly struck the other side of the castle, chipping off a good chunk of stonework. She heard the piece knock against the walls as they descended, landing noisily on the ground.

"Aleera is so happy that she will be the first bride to have children," Verona remarked stiffly. Ileana glanced at her, surprised that the woman had even bothered to address her comment. After all, their last conversation hadn't exactly been pleasant, and if they never spoke again, she wouldn't be heartbroken. However, from the tone of her voice, she could tell that the bride was displeased not to be the first to have real children with Dracula. The man said nothing as they entered the castle, and Ileana wanted to pull Verona aside and assure her that Aleera certainly wouldn't leave this castle tonight with children, but it would be easier to let her see it for herself. Besides, for all she knew, Verona could be equally invested in starting one big family, and despite her jealousy, she could be fairly thrilled at the thought of having any children at all.

They descended down into the laboratory in a large group, and Igor cowered as they passed. They must have looked impressive, four vampires in a crowd. Gadgets hummed to life, machinery clattered, and sparks suddenly shot out from bits and pieces of loose wire as a bolt of lightning struck one of the towers. It wouldn't be enough: there needed to be four bolts hitting all of the towers at the same time in order for a successful jolt into their conductor. Speaking of which…

Ileana broke away from the group to examine their test subject, who had been hollering since she arrived. She approached, careful to keep her distance. The man was certainly one of the biggest she had ever seen, beating Dracula by at least a foot and a half in height, and by quite a measure in width. He had a solid black eye patch over his right eye, and lengthy grey hair trailed down to his shoulders. She wondered how long he had been captive by Dracula, and where he had been storing the man. After all, she hadn't heard any extra commotion over the past few days in the castle, which might have meant Dracula did not pluck him from his dwelling until sometime that morning.

"Ileana," Dracula called, pulling her away from Boris Valerious without a word. "We're starting."

She nodded, and as Igor made sure everything was hooked up to the senior Valerious. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to be near him. Instead, she worked on the pressure pumps near the back of the room, checking each one over to ensure an accurate reading of the electricity. When everything was in order, Igor joined her, working soundlessly. She noticed a small bead of sweat roll down the side of his face, and she realized he must have been nervous about tonight's success. It had put everyone on edge for quite some time, and although Dracula was excited, she knew he also felt some tension in him for tonight to work.

It was an intricate dance. The electricity had to hit the towers at the exact moment Ileana and Igor flipped several comically large switches, and their timing needs to be perfect. The occupants of the laboratory fell silent, except for Boris' wailing, and a moment later she watched as Dracula raised his hand, signalling their commencement. Seconds later, he brought it down and looked at them, and both Igor and Ileana pushed the heavy metal switches down at a similar pace, connecting with the end of the line at the same time. She whirled back quickly and watched as electricity whizzed down the cables, into the connectors, and then finally into Boris Valerious. The sounds he emitted were unnatural and heartbreaking, but she couldn't look away as the heat fried his body. The surge was so strong that he stopped screaming within seconds, and she knew he was dead. Two hearts turned into one in the chamber, and Ileana knew that one belonged to Igor.

How fragile human life was. The electricity did not stop with Boris, and as she expected, it searched for an out, only to carry on into the cables and out of the room. Ileana joined the rest of her vampire fellows as they raced out of the room, a blur of motion as they rushed to the hall with Aleera's young. Ileana climbed one of the pillars to get a better view, and her eyes widened as the electricity split perfectly between all the smaller cables, sending a surge of energy into each individual sac. All that hard work… Perhaps it might just work.

Aleera's thrilled squeal echoed throughout the chamber as the sacs suddenly started to rumble, as though there were movement inside. Ileana arched an eyebrow, intrigued with the turn of events. However, seconds later that all came crashing to an abrupt halt. The movement stopped as the sparks died down, and Ileana realized nothing had been brought to life. The brides fell quiet, and she watched as Dracula strode across the room to the nearest sac and wrenched it open, feeling around inside as liquid and slime oozed out. She was sure they wouldn't have heartbeats, but there should have been some indication to her heightened senses had they survived.

She flinched as Dracula released a growl of rage, hurling a piece of metal equipment across the room. The brides were whimpering now, gathered around Aleera as the redhead sobbed, a hand on a still-dead sac.

"Why didn't it work?" Dracula shouted, glaring up at Ileana as she cautiously made her way down the column. The accusatory gleam in his eye was unsettling, but she wasn't about to let him blame this failure on her.

"The human body was _not_ meant to conduct that much electricity!" she all but shouted, pointing back toward the laboratory, "If you want to bring these children to life, you need something that won't die within the first few seconds of contact!"

"Did you know this would happen?" he snarled, closing in on her. Ileana took a few careful steps back, but she tried her best to hold her ground…figuratively, anyway.

"I had my suspicions, yes," she said frankly. "He might be strong, but he's flesh and blood like the rest of them… Up against a bolt of lightning they are all the same!"

For a moment, he looked as though he was about to hit her. However, his hand remained at his side in a fist, eyes livid, and he started to pace.

"To give them a fighting chance, we need to pump them full of more electricity," Ileana offered. "We saw some success, but not enough. Next time, find me a better conductor."

He glanced up at her sharply, "Next time?"

She nodded pointedly at his brides, "We can keep trying… for them. These bodies will decay shortly, and we should be rid of them, but you can always try again for more."

"How dare you!" Aleera shrieked, "How dare you use our children like that?"

"It must be done," Ileana argued. "Success is _never_ a guarantee in science. We don't know what will work, but we know this won't! I'm very sorry that it didn't… but the only way we'll know is if we try again!"

She was trying her best to stay logical in this situation. She knew how much the women hurt, and Dracula's anger would have the best of him in seconds. Without another word, the man stormed out, leaving her with the weeping brides. She wanted to offer some sort of comfort, but she wasn't even sure if Aleera would want it. After all, Ileana's experiment had killed her children. For a brief, shining moment they were alive, and now they weren't. She took a step toward the trio, and then stopped when Verona looked up at her. They held each other's gaze, and although she was comforting her fellow bride, there were no tears.

Was she happy there was a failure? Perhaps 'happy' was a bit of a stretch, but she certainly wasn't as upset as she could have been. So, instead of joining them, Ileana left, and her feet took her up to Madalina's room. Once there, she slipped inside and climbed into bed, careful not to wake the girl. She threw an arm around her and held her close, and remained there until the following morning.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So. Yes. Realllly long time since there was an update, and I apologize. I think I put this story off because I already know a lot of how things are going to play out, and it seems like a constant to me. It's one of my favourites, and I've worked out a lot of the prequel, and still debating a sequel. So lots still left in this fandom to enjoy!**

**I'm also really comfortable with where Ileana and Dracula are at this point. However, drama is never too far off… So stay tuned!**


	31. Sweet Dreams

_Left you with nothing_

_But they want some more_

_Oh, you're changing your heart_

_Oh, you know who you are _

_1234 – Feist _

Ileana realized things had taken a turn for the worse when she turned up in the laboratory one morning to find equipment strewn across the room. Clearly, her lover had gone off into a rage and decided destroying the place was the best option to satiate his rage. A month and a half had passed since the botched experiment, and from what she understood, Aleera was still quite emotional. She could understand… somewhat. After all, there was no chance that the female vampire had any time to bond with her young, so Ileana couldn't possibly fathom why it would take this long to get over their loss. It was like she had never had them at all.

All three of Dracula's brides were frequent visitors to the castle now, showing up at obscure times to see if any new progress had been made since their previous visit. Each time, Ileana was forced to politely tell them nothing new had come about, lest Dracula lose his temper and send them off in a sobbing mess. She only barely felt an affinity for two of the women, with Verona growing on her slowly, but she didn't want them to cower and weep at the hands of their husband simply because science was too slow for him. Not that she would step in to defend them, or anything to that extent, but she did shoot him several very strong, disapproving glares whenever he lost his temper unnecessarily on one of the women. They couldn't help being curious, nor could they help that for all these hundreds of years they hadn't bothered to pick up an intellectual text so they could understand the actual process…

Regardless, Ileana did try to explain things to them, and it seemed, surprisingly, that Marishka had the greatest aptitude for the sciences; mostly because Verona seemed to ignore anything Ileana said that did not directly pertain to the chance of success, and Aleera found the subject _exceptionally_ boring. So, saying the youngest of the brides had an aptitude was a stretch… to say the least.

She had done her very best to keep Madalina out of everything, which grew more and more difficult with the presence of the brides, and Dracula's insistence that she spend almost every waking hour working toward something meaningful. Naturally, she put her foot down, and demanded that she give Madalina several hours of the day, which consisted of their usual tutoring, strolls along the castle grounds, and meals in the small kitchen. The office could no longer be used, as it was overflowing with texts that she had ordered from different book collectors that Dracula had found, not to mention walls full of detailed sketches of the innards of human anatomy. It wasn't something for Madalina to see, even if she had an intellectual curiosity. But of course, the girl asked questions. She did not quite understand the dichotomy between Dracula, his brides and Ileana, nor could she understand why they were always popping in and out of the castle.

The other women wanted the little girl to see them as something of a surrogate family, much to Ileana's annoyance. A possessive side of her kicked in whenever she saw that beautiful little blonde girl race toward the brides, arms outstretched as they hoisted her up, cooing at her too quickly in Romanian for Ileana to understand much. Naturally, Madalina always drifted back, usually out an apprehension that something was off about the women. It was always pleasing, but also saddening, because Ileana knew that the little girl felt almost the same way about her, but she hid it much better.

Now, any time she suspected their night would take a violent turn – i.e. Dracula hurling machinery around the lab with absolutely no regard to the costs – Ileana was sure to will Madalina into a solid enough slumber that she would stay asleep until late the next morning. It wasn't something she enjoyed doing. The ethical implication of forcing your own will on another was something she wrestled with every time Madalina sighed happily in her sleep. It took a lot of focus, a lot of concentration, and a lot of energy to keep her under for about eight hours. Aleera had been trying to coach her whenever they had a spare moment so that it wouldn't be so taxing – as it was something she had to keep up for the duration of Madalina's sleep – but it seemed that the redheaded vampire also had limited knowledge on such powers Dracula seemed to be the one to go to for such things, but their relationship had felt a little strained lately, as if the experiment failing was her fault entirely, so she avoided him for personal matters whenever she could.

So, while juggling Madalina's incessant daily curiosity, Ileana also had to deal with a surly lover who refused to acknowledge that he had rushed the process or that he had ignored her protests. Instead, he blamed Igor and Ileana for wiring the machines poorly, and after he nearly destroyed everything in a bout of rage, he about finding new goods, which they would meticulously connect until it was perfect. She wasn't exactly sure what 'perfect' would look like, and Igor may have been silent on the issue, but she was also sure he hadn't the slightest clue what would make the experiment more successful. Naturally, they both knew it required her uncle's machine, but that hope was long dead, and the only way it seemed they would boost up Dracula was by rewiring the fancier, newer equipment 'properly' and retry things once another bride was pregnant. She wasn't sure the signs of vampire pregnancy, but for all the time her lover spent with his brides, any one of them could have been with children right now.

Naturally, an incubation period followed a bride getting pregnant, so they did have a buffer of a few months to get things right. She decided that if she really wanted to help, she needed to learn more about mechanics and electricity, and the only way to do so was to read. However, the literature resources here were limited at best, and if she wanted to get more information on modern mechanics, she would need to visit places like France, England and America. As of that moment, a trip somewhere farther than Eastern Europe seemed unlikely, so she would have to strategize a way to get the material into her hands. Surely Dracula would understand the logic going somewhere where resources were more accessible. Mind you, that would actually involve her having a conversation with him that did not involve her progress on learning the new parts of some machine, so that might take some time to happen.

But then again, he was always full of surprises. That morning, Ileana had decided to spend some time examining a new machine, one that measured the heat of other machines in order to avoid damage, before Madalina woke. She promised the little girl that they would spend the cloudy day in the nearby mountains, as summer was almost upon them and there was a plethora of new flowers to explore. However, if she was going to spend the day away from home, she needed to put a little bit of work in beforehand to justify her leaving. However, as she crouched down on the floor, eyes squinted in an attempt to decipher the cryptic scribbling along one of the metres, a scent tickled her nose.

Frowning, Ileana sat up and looked back to the large arched door, grinning a little when she realized what it was. Dracula appeared in the entrance moments later, a limp body in his hands, stinking of blood and fresh air; clearly, he had gone hunting without her.

"I brought you a present," he purred as he sauntered in, lifting the lifeless body of a young man up for her to view. "I know you prefer them already dead."

"A gift?" she mused, cocking an eyebrow as she pushed herself off her knees and to her feet, "Even though I haven't the slightest idea how this machine works?"

"Just this once," he teased, tossing the figure toward her. "I feel I've been working you a little too hard lately."

Ileana glanced down at the body, her mouth watering a little when she spotted a trickle of blood on the man's lip. A shiver ran through her, and she realized it had been quite some time since she had properly fed on anything of this size. Bottled blood, while appetizing, could never match what a fresh corpse did. It was a horrible thought, yes, but Ileana had to accept her true nature, and as she gazed down at the body, there was definitely no denying it.

It took some effort, but she forced herself to walk around the body and approach Dracula, who had been watching her silently. For the first time in quite some time, the smile she produced wasn't forced. Instead, a genuine appreciation for the effort he took for her shone through, and she leaned up on the tips of her toes to give him a peck on the lips.

"Thank you," Ileana murmured, nibbling on her lower lip playfully. "However will I return the favour?"

"Gifts hardly need to be returned, my dear," he replied, "but I suppose I can think of a few ways…"

"I'm sure you can," she chuckled, slipping away from him when he leaned down again, going in for another kiss.

She sauntered toward her meal and kneeled down, pulling the limp corpse onto her lap so that she could have unrestricted access to the neck. There were countless spots on the body to feed, but the neck produced an ample amount of blood with the least amount of stench, so she usually went there when the opportunity presented itself. At least this fellow was clean, and for a brief moment Ileana wondered where her lover might have found him. He looked no older than she was… She shook her head quickly, banishing those thoughts lest they spoil her meal.

Pulling back her lips, she felt her teeth elongate automatically, as natural as breathing, and moments later they were embedded in the man's neck. She moaned noisily, her eyes rolling back a little as she feasted. The blood was still warm, despite the man's cooling flesh, and she snaked her fingers through his dark curly hair, dragging his head further to the side as she drank.

"I do so enjoy watching you like this," he told her, suddenly standing before her. She looked up at him and broke away from her meal, smiling slightly as blood dribbled down her chin. Dracula returned the gesture and leaned down, catching a droplet with his finger, "Acceptance."

She arched an eyebrow, and then leaned up a touch to kiss his hand. She wasn't necessarily in the mood for flirtation, but whenever he initiated something spontaneously like this, she couldn't help but warm up in an instant. Things had changed quite drastically since she was first turned, and she knew he reveled in just how much she enjoyed most of her new vampire lifestyle. Sometimes she thought he might be a bit smug considering the fuss she put up originally, but she tried to ignore that side of him whenever she could.

He strolled around her as she continued to feed, and suddenly she felt him fiddling with her hair, as though vying for her attention. She pulled back once more, knowing that he wouldn't leave her be until he got exactly what he wanted. Mind you, it wasn't to say that the intimacy was something she didn't want. After all, they hadn't been together for quite some time…

His hand tightened in her hair, and dragged her head back so that he could kiss her properly. Her hands snaked up and cupped his face, the limp corpse falling to the ground, almost forgotten. The man's blood smeared between their lips, and Ileana gave a small squeal as Dracula hauled her away from her gift by her hair. It was a movement that would have hurt any normal woman, but Ileana actually thrived on it, raking her nails across his cheek in return. He stepped around and descended upon her quickly, joining her on the cool floor of the laboratory, a hungry gleam in his eye. Ileana arched her back, throwing her head awry as he planted firm kisses down her neck. He then grasped the neckline of her plain brown dress and ripped it open in one motion, exposing her naked flesh beneath. She hadn't dressed properly for the day yet, as Madalina wasn't supposed to be up, and decided it was beneficial as he ran his tongue along her breastbone.

A soft giggle sounded from the doorway, and Ileana looked back quickly, startled at the intrusion. Marishka was wrapped around the arched opening, her eyes wide and a very bright yellow – an indication of her recent feeding – as she gazed at the pair. For a moment, Ileana was at a loss for what to say. She almost wanted to push Dracula off and cover herself, but when she looked back at her lover, he seemed perfectly at ease with the arrival of his bride.

"So she liked the boy?" Marishka purred, sliding into the room. Instead of answering, Dracula resumed his ministrations on her body, nibbling here and there sharply enough to make her gasp. The blonde vampire continued to saunter toward them, a sway in her hips that made it difficult for Ileana to look away from. The vampire grinned, "I picked him for you, my dear! Isn't he so fresh?"

"Y-Yes," Ileana managed. "He was delicious."

"Oh good!" the woman trilled, clapping her hands a little, "I am known for my gathering skills."

"You did not return with the others?" Dracula inquired against Ileana's skin, his hands grasping at the hem of her dress as he rolled it up her hips. Why wasn't he stopping? As uncomfortable as Ileana found the situation, she couldn't find it in herself to force him away. Instead, she continued to watch Marishka approach, her long blonde hair cascading over her risqué outfit: a tease.

"The sun is out, Master," Marishka insisted, fluttering her eyelashes. "I decided to stay until it clouded… and then I thought I heard something I liked…"

Much to her surprise, the vampire kneeled down by her head, and before she could say anything, Dracula bit down on her inner thigh, forcing her to cry out in shock. Marishka ran her fingers through Ileana's dark hair, and then, before she could stop her, the vampire dragged her head up for a kiss. Soft lips met hers, and Ileana's eyes widened, completely at a loss for how she ought to react to such a gesture. By instinct alone, she kissed back, completely distracted with the new development. Suddenly, her lover thrust into her, filling her in one swift movement. She moaned noisily, eyes widening as he took her roughly in the presence of another. She broke her kiss with Marishka and threw her head back, lost in the sensations provided by more than one person, four hands groping at her flesh as her lover continued at a steady, sharp pace.

Marishka shifted her position so that Ileana leaned back against her, fingers twirling in her hair as she yanked her head back to expose bare neck. Moments later, the blonde vampire sunk her teeth in the soft curve of her neck, and Ileana let out another cry. One hand clutched at Dracula weakly, nails digging into the fabric of his jacket, while another clung to Marishka's hair, overwhelmed with the feeling of pain and pleasure at the hands of her fellow vampires. Marishka broke away, and she watched the blonde kiss her lover heatedly, Ileana's blood trailing down between them. Despite his attention being momentarily distracted by another, Ileana could close her eyes and feel as though no one else was in the room with them. He gripped her hips tightly as they enjoyed each other, until finally the sensations proved too strong for her, and she reached her peak with a soft sigh, her hands tugging at her hair in ecstasy.

He withdrew when he felt her finish, and much to her continued surprise with this whole obscure – though interesting – situation, Marishka almost immediately took her place. She heard the female vampire giggle happily as she straddled Dracula, kissing Ileana's lover heatedly as she sought to finish him off. Ileana blinked a few times, the pleasure in her body dwindling as she calmed herself. She found it distasteful to watch another woman with Dracula, despite what had just conspired, so she busied herself with her forgotten meal. The blood had cooled considerably at that point, but it still did its job in satiating her remaining hunger. When she finished, she stumbled to her feet and left the two in the laboratory to themselves, feeling no need to sit around and watch them finish.

Instead, she hurried up to her room to change out of her sullied dress, hoping that she didn't run into Igor along the way. When she made it to the room at the peak of her tower, she hurriedly shed her ruined dress and replaced it with a pleasant pale blue one. It was a loose dress, showing no hint of a figure beneath it, but when she was with Madalina, she decided that ought to be how she looked.

The sun was in full bloom, illuminating the sky, and she tread carefully through the corridors, moving only in shadow. When Dracula finished with Marishka, she would ask him to bring about some sort of cloud cover. She passed an old wooden clock in the corridor, one her uncle had purchased soon after they first arrived, and she felt a twinge of guilt; she must have lost track of time in the laboratory with all the new machines, because it was well into the afternoon, and Madalina must have been up for hours, all the while assuming Ileana had forgotten about their date. Her recent rendezvous with her lover and his bride most likely put her even _more_ behind than she already was, and she quickly hurried along the castle corridor's shadows, arriving at Madalina's room moments later.

However, as she poked her head into the room, an apologetic smile on her lips, she saw that it was empty. The smile turned quickly into a frown, and Ileana darted in. The closet was open and some clothing strewn about, which meant the little girl must have dressed herself some time ago. The sun filtered in from the open window, which limited Ileana's ability to go much farther into the room. However, it was fairly clear that she wasn't here. So, the vampire turned and descended down to the kitchen, hoping to find Madalina there, only to be disappointed once more. The room was also vacant, and she felt frustration well up inside her. There were only a few designated spots in the castle that Madalina knew about, or could get to, and she began searching through all of them. There weren't many, as most doors off-limits to the little girl were bolted shut; as far as Ileana knew, the girl wasn't any good at picking locks.

"Madalina?" she called sharply, waiting to hear a response. When nothing came, she closed her eyes and tried to hone in on any hearts beating within the castle walls. From what she could hear, there was the characteristic thudding of Igor's organ, and nothing more. A panic started to set in.

She followed the sound of the man's heart and flung the door to his room open, earning a sharp cry from the deformed figure.

"Where is Madalina?" she demanded, swooping down on the man as he lounged in his bed. Her hands wrapped around his thick neck, and he struggled to force out an answer.

"She w-went outside early this morning," he gasped, eyes bulging as she started to crush his windpipe. "W-Wanted to see the flowers…"

"She isn't allowed out on her own!" Ileana nearly shrieked, "How could you let her go?"

"Sh-She isn't _my_ child," the man intoned weakly, his face colouring a deep red as she continued to strangle him. Disgusted, she finally released him and swept out of the room, racing to the front entrance, wincing whenever the briefest hint of sunlight almost touched her skin.

She came to a quick stop at the main doorway, standing up on the tips of her toes to look out the small window within it gingerly. It was remarkably bright outside, but Ileana managed to scan the courtyard without too much difficulty. There was no sign of the little girl, but the doorway beside the main gates was swinging open in a breeze, and Ileana felt consumed with her panic. How could she go somewhere outside of the castle alone? They had talked about this over and over again… Hopefully she hadn't ventured further than the moat that surrounded the castle. While that river was dangerous, Madalina knew better than to go too near to the edge. Perhaps she was merely sitting nearby, enraptured with some local weeds.

Wishful thinking, yes, but she couldn't imagine where else she might have gone. She turned and quickly rushed up two levels, using a shadow nearby to cover herself as she gazed out over the castle grounds. She then let out the most horrified scream, her hands cupping her mouth.

There was her girl on the other side of the river, strung up on what appeared to be a wooden cross, head limp to the side, motionless.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**ACK. This took me about two weeks to write. I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew what I wanted to say, but sometimes the words just don't come to me. So I finally got it up, and it's sort of a … part one of a two part chapter. The next part will hopefully be posted within the next week or so. **_**Hopefully**_**. **


	32. Pleasant Nightmares

Ileana stared out the window in horror, eyes wide, mouth pressing tightly together as her lips wobbled. Her little girl was out there, strung up like some criminal, and at the moment there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She inched closer to the window, but winced as she neared the end of the shadowed area.

The sun was so bright today. It was actually quite glorious, and had she been human, today would have been the most ideal day to take Madalina up into the mountains. Clear, gorgeous and warm… but all of it now hurt her eyes, and would surely burn her skin off if she did something rash, like racing out into it. However, it was all she could think about. All she wanted to do was rip off the window, leap into the outdoors, and rescue her little girl. She paced around in front of the window, whimpering and wringing her hands together. Her head was a mess. Part of her couldn't accept that it was Madalina. It could have been some other blonde girl, and for all she knew, the townspeople had strung her as some sort of ridiculous gesture. However, the more rational part of her knew it was her girl. Madalina was nowhere to be found inside, and with Igor saying she had gone out to look for flowers earlier in the morning, there was no telling how long she had been up on that cross.

Moments later, Dracula and Marishka appeared at the end of the hallway, moving lithely through the shadows.

"What is it?" Dracula inquired, some look of concern on his face as he approached her. Marishka followed curiously, though she seemed less fazed by Ileana's distressed state.

"Do something!" she wailed, grasping his jacket and pushing him toward the window, "Give me cover! Do something!"

Her voice was panicked, strained, cutting in and out as she spoke. Both vampires peered out the window, and Marishka gasped, her eyes, now back to brown, widened.

"Oh Ileana," she cooed, "I'm so sorry-"

"Make it cloudy," Ileana demanded, ignoring the blonde bride pointedly. "She may still be alive!"

Her lover stared back at her skeptically, and she hit his arm, "Do it! Please!"

He sighed, as though she was putting him through some arduous task, and then set to work. Ileana watched as the sky started to become hazy, and almost instantly it became easier to look outside. She gave Madalina a final glance before she raced through the castle toward the main entrance on the first floor. Feet bare, she darted outside, her skin tingling from the lingering rays of sunlight, but otherwise remaining unharmed. She dashed across the courtyard, tore through the side gate, and nearly tripped over her own feet as she ran through the grounds. The wind was so strong it threatened to slow her down, but she managed to push through, hurrying across the bridge that connected the castle's land to the rest of the forest. However, as soon as she neared the cross, she felt this odd, aching feeling rise up within her body.

She had never been religious in life. In fact, she barely gave any meaning to religious symbols except in a historical context, but now, as she tried to approach her girl, she felt as though some force was trying to keep her at bay. A strangled cry sounded in her throat, and she brought a hand up to cover her eyes, shielding them from the symbol before her. That made it a little easier to approach, and once she had passed some barrier, unable to see the full outline of the structure, she felt the wall between her and Madalina lessen.

Her girl looked so perfect, despite her circumstances. There wasn't a mark on her aside from bruising on her neck, and when Ileana heard no heartbeat, she knew someone had choked the life out of her. Her wrists and feet were not pierced with anything – thankfully she did not have to endure such degradation – but instead tied to the wooden bars of the cross with what appeared to be some kind of metal. Tears rolling down her cheeks, Ileana reached out to start removing the bindings from her ankles, but cried out in pain as soon as she touched them. She brought her hands back to her body, cradling them close to her chest. Her fingers had been burned with something, and several nasty welts appeared along the tips. She sucked at them, hoping to heal, and let out a sob when the marks remained.

"They must have blessed it."

She turned back to see Dracula approaching quickly, "Don't touch anything else… Those wounds will take longer to heal."

Ileana said nothing. Instead, she stood beside him numbly, gazing up at Madalina's serene face. She looked as though she was asleep, and in any moment she would wake up and cry out for Ileana to free her from her bindings. However, nothing of the sort happened. Dracula walked around the cross and unearthed it, dragging it down so that it lay on the ground. Immediately, Ileana hurried to Madalina's side, kneeling by her face and brushing her hair neatly from her face. The girl's skin was cold: further evidence toward her demise. She stroked her little cheeks softly, winching as Dracula wretched the metal bindings off the cross. He tossed them away and Ileana quickly tucked Madalina's hands on top of her chest, her own hands shaking as she silently examined the deep cuts where the metal had once been. She then flinched as Dracula snapped off an arm of the cross, tossing it aside. Almost instantly the barrier was completely gone, and Ileana felt nothing between her and her deceased Madalina.

"You will find discomfort with crucifixes and things from the church," he muttered, stalking around to the other side. He ripped off the other arm, hurling it so far that it fell into the river. "They must not have wanted you to touch her."

She sobbed, brushing her tears away as she fidgeted with Madalina's clothing. It was in slight disarray. She shouldn't look like this. No. Something caught her eye just above Madalina's head, and she leaned closer to examine what appeared to be some sort of inscription carved into the wood. It certainly wasn't in English, and she looked back at Dracula. He too leaned down to examine it, and then let out something of a growl before retracting.

"What does it say?" she demanded.

"Ileana-"

"What does it say?" she snapped, this time a little more forcefully. He pursed his lips at her, and then pointed to the inscription.

"It's Latin," he explained, "and roughly translates to… Devil's child."

Ileana gasped, her bottom lip quivering, and she tried valiantly not to burst out into tears again. The situation had happened. There was nothing she could do to bring her back: no amount of tears restored life. Though, if they had caught Madalina in the throes of dwindling life, perhaps they could have turned her, and the little girl could be with her for all eternity.

No. She would never force this life onto a little girl, especially one as sweet as her Madalina. Ileana leaned down and placed her cheek on the girl's chest, willing there to be a heartbeat, but never expecting one to sound.

"These villagers truly are a nuisance," Dracula grumbled. She glanced up at him and saw him gazing into the forest, a placid expression on his face, "First they come after your uncle, and now Madalina… It seems they cannot leave you in peace-"

"Me?" Ileana demanded, her eyes widening as she sat up, "They cannot leave _me_ in peace? They did this because of _you_!"

He scoffed noisily and rolled his eyes, fueling her anger, and she was quickly on her feet, stabbing him in the chest accusingly, "_You_ are who they mean when they call her the Devil's child, not me! You were the reason those barbarians attacked my uncle when they did, and _you_ are why they took Madalina! _You_ took one of theirs, an important one at that, and now they've taken it out on me! How dare you think otherwise?"

"Ileana, stop all the dramatics," he sneered, swatting her hand away. "Velkan Valerious and his men-"

"You took his father!"

"They saw you with Madalina," he reasoned, reaching out to cup her face, but she hastily stepped away. "They must have thought we had a child… We are equally at fault."

"She and I could have been in England by now," Ileana spat. "We could have been happy, and safe, and… alive with my family. We're here because of _you_."

"Don't pretend you aren't happy with me," he snorted. "We're long passed all that-"

"Apparently it's come up again when they murdered my girl because of you."

"She was never _your_ girl," he countered. "Her real parents are several villages over, and you decided to shelter a starving peasant and play teacher!"

Her lips tightened, gutted at the accusation, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned back and kneeled down beside Madalina, finally permitting the tears to flow freely. They lolled down her cheeks and over her chin, dripping down on to her dress without an end in sight.

"Look," Dracula started, "why don't we bring her inside… We can put her in the cellar to keep the body fresh. When we start our next experiment, we can connect her to the machines and give her new life-"

"Don't touch her!" Ileana shouted, pushing him away as he reached down for her, "Leave us be!"

"Ileana-"

"You've done enough!" she sobbed, her voice straining as she shouted at him, arms protectively thrown over Madalina. Her lover stared at her for a moment, and then threw his hands up in the air, defeated. Without another word, he stormed back toward the castle. She could practically feel his anger radiating across the grounds, but Ileana also couldn't care less. This was all his fault… Devil's child, indeed! How could someone take this beautiful girl and think of her as anything but pure?

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was at fault for this in one way or another. If she hadn't been indulging her curiosity selfishly that morning with the new machines, she would have met Madalina in time for their walk, and all of this could have been avoided. The session with Dracula and Marishka only compounded her guilt. There she had been, reveling in pleasure and debauchery, while somewhere else her little girl was terrified and killed at the hands of brutes. Dracula may have been the overall cause for the little girl's death – and surely her own – but all things considered, Ileana was to blame that it had happened that day. She was living her life as a vampire: indulgent, passion-filled, and ignorant to the lives of the living.

What had she become?

She truly was an animal. What else rolled around in carnal pleasures while their young suffered? She would never forget this. Never in her lifetime would she be able to remove herself from the overwhelming guilt that rose steadily over the course of that day. As she lay there, stroking Madalina's golden hair, she hated herself. She had been selfish to think that she could have her little girl in a world of demons and darkness without consequences. She should have found a suitable family to care for her as soon as possible. If she had, Madalina could have had a real mother and father, ones that could properly cloth her, take her traveling, and have picnics on sunny days in some glorious little park somewhere… Instead, she had condemned her angel to live in the shadows with her. All of this was her fault…

"I'm so sorry," she whispered shakily, trailing her burnt fingers along the girl's smooth skin. "I should have done something more for you… I'm so very sorry."

Ileana remained there for the rest of the day. Minutes slipped into hours, and she lost track of everything completely. For all she knew, she could have been there for days, watching Madalina, stroking her hair, weeping… If anyone had seen her, she would have looked like a disaster. In reality, she was slowly numbing. The pain was so all-encompassing that she felt as if she had turned hollow over the course of the day. The tears dried eventually, but the ache remained, eating away at her deadened heart in a way nothing had since her uncle was killed.

This was it. The only other person in this world who was there for her was gone. There would be no escape from her lover when times were tough, nor would she have a confidante in her loneliness when he was away. Was this to be her fate? Alone or with a man who, at the drop of a hat, could drive her insane with jealousy, lust, or rage? Naturally, one was bound to find other people if they lived forever, but it was difficult to see the future when she was so wrapped up in the present with her little girl dead in her arms.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the woods before her, and her eyes drifted up lazily to take in the interruption. Much to her surprise, Velkan Valerious emerged from the brush, a hunting rifle slung over one shoulder, and a shovel on the other. She stared up at him, still thrown protectively over Madalina's body, but she felt no urge to attack him. There was no sign of smugness in his eyes, no hint of gloating in his face. Instead, he seemed… saddened.

"Come to see your handiwork?" Ileana inquired lightly, placing a hand on Madalina's forehead, "Or have you come to bury the evidence?"

"Neither," he replied firmly, stopping short a few feet away from her. "I didn't ask for this… I only found out today what my men did on their own. I… I've been away for the past several weeks putting the Valerious affairs in order with officials in Bucharest… I returned this afternoon to hear what they did to your girl."

Her eyes welled again, and he frowned, "Ileana, would you permit me to apologize for them? I… I had no idea they would ever stoop to such levels-"

"Who?" she demanded, eyes narrowing as tears rolled out, "Who did this?"

"Members of my hunting party," he replied, "and our local priest… I've had him removed. We are at war with your… maker, but not you. With his women, yes, but it was never about you or your girl. You're victims, but I believe my men saw vampire and wanted to… remove something dear to you."

"They have succeeded."

"I came here alone," Velkan informed her, "because I thought she deserved a proper burial so she can find her way to Heaven. May I?"

"A burial?"

"We can't leave her here," he explained gently, "and you can't hold onto her… She deserves a chance to find eternal happiness."

"I… Neither of us were… religious," she muttered, sitting up a little to wipe her face, "but… it couldn't hurt to bury her."

"She'll be at peace," Velkan murmured, holding out a hand. "If you can promise no wolves or vampires will attack me while I help… I'd like to dig the grave for you at a place of your choosing."

She couldn't promise anything to him. Her lover loathed the man, and a part of her was starting to as well. He couldn't have been completely innocent in all this; after all, who told his men that she was a vampire? She hadn't explicitly said it, and yet somehow they knew enough to go after Madalina. However, she could see he was really trying to do something to ease her suffering, which was a gesture that was unnecessary for him to make. So, she eased herself up and nodded.

"By the river," she told him. "It's where we first met… I'd… I'd like to have her buried there."

"That sounds very nice," he said decidedly, giving her a little bit of a smile. "Why don't you lead the way?"

She nodded again, and then hoisted her little girl up into her arms. She weighed next to nothing, and Ileana moved soundlessly through the forest, not caring whether Velkan followed or not. He did, however, and remained just close enough to give a respectful distance. They walked for some time, with Ileana drifting along slower than she might have gone normally, but eventually they found the perfect spot. There was a small grassy hill that edged down into the riverbank, and Ileana decided that hill would make for the perfect spot. She set Madalina down gently on the springy moss bed nearby, and then pointed at the spot she wanted.

"There."

"I'll get to work," Velkan muttered, leaning his rifle on a nearby tree and throwing off his jacket. She watched him for a moment as he started to upturn the earth, but quickly went about straightening Madalina's clothing and brushing her hair with her fingers. The prince worked hard, and she could smell the perspiration well before it became abundant on his back, but he toiled away without complaining or asking for a rest.

When she was sure Madalina was perfect – more perfect than usual, even – she set about gathering flowers from the surrounding area. She had a good mixture of deep purples and yellows from the little flowers that littered the ground, and she made a fairly good sized bouquet. The remaining pieces were braided into Madalina's soft hair. When she finished, she sat next to the motionless girl, watching Velkan dig her grave without a hint of an expression on her face. Finally, when she could only see the upper half of his body, he leapt out of the hole and set the shovel down, dusting his hands off on his pants.

"Are you ready?"

"No," she whispered, "but that doesn't matter."

"Take your time."

She clutched at Madalina's wrist, unable to move, until finally she decided that the longer she delayed, the longer Madalina's soul – or whatever was out there – would be unable to find its way into some sort of afterlife. So, she sniffled and wiped under her eyes quickly before gently lifting Madalina's body up. She set it gently in the grave, the stench of earth more inviting than she had expected, and then took several steps back, flustered with everything.

"Is there anything you'd like to say?" Velkan inquired lightly, one hand on his shovel.

She shook her head, "No. I've said everything…"

"She won't be alone in the afterlife," he told her softly. "In death she will find a whole host of people waiting to show her peace… She'll never suffer again."

Ileana said nothing, but instead wept silently, a hand over her mouth to keep the sobs in. No doubt sensing she wasn't about to be conversational about it, Velkan began to bury Madalina, heaving shovelfuls of dirt and plant life into her grave. She watched each piece go in, and it took everything in her not to shove the man aside and bring her girl back out from the earth; it was suffocating her. No. No, she had to think differently. It was a blanket. It was a protector to help her ease into the unknown.

When Velkan finished, it was clear the man was exhausted. He stumbled a little when he stepped away from the fresh mound, and Ileana set about covering it with nearby flowers. Hopefully, they would take root and grow: life from death.

"Thank you," she muttered, holding herself there as a warm breeze blew through the forest, having no effect on her in the slightest. "This was very kind of you."

"It's only right," he remarked, hoisting his gun back over his shoulder. "Ileana… You don't need to return to him."

She looked back at Velkan sharply, arching an eyebrow. He stepped closer, "He's a demon… I am more than willing to give you shelter in my home until you find alternative arrangements. You do not need to stay here and suffer."

"Give me shelter in your home?" she repeated, "In the home that also offers shelter to Madalina's killers?"

"I don't think that's the point here-"

"It's all relevant!" she snapped, nostrils flaring, "Why should I leave one barbarian to stay with another? You're all the same!"

"I am nothing like him-"

"You're both at war with one another," Ileana said sharply, sitting at the foot of Madalina's grave. "I don't care what you think… I'll return to my castle. It was purchased for us, and sits in my family's name. Should I leave, it will be on my terms, and by no help from you or your men."

He licked his lips and sighed, seemingly at a loss. She leaned closer, "They called her the Devil's child… What does that make me? The Devil's whore?"

"You know I don't think that."

"Thank you for this," Ileana pressed on, nodding to the grave, "but after this I don't think I want anything to do with your people… not until I can promise I won't attack when we are together."

"I understand, but-"

"I'd like to mourn privately," she said suddenly, cutting him off. She wasn't in the mood to argue with him on the issue anymore, nor did she desire his company beyond this point. He gazed down upon her for a moment, and then nodded. He departed without another word, gun and shovel slung over his sweaty shoulders.

Alone again. Ileana slid down to the ground, sprawled out over Madalina's grave, and she picked all the petals off a nearby flower.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**And so ends that chapter. Madalina's death was always at the back of my mind, as she was also killed in the original version of this story a long time ago. Back then, her name was Melanie, and someone shot her with an arrow while she and Ileana were playing outside. I like this one better. **


	33. Starving for a Cause

_It's never enough for you, baby  
Don't want to play your game anymore  
No matter what you say  
I'm all out of love for you, baby_

_Made of Stone –_ Evanescence

Ileana couldn't breathe. It wasn't as if she needed to, but she felt suffocated, like her skin was too heavy for her to exist in. Each passing day it grew tighter until she felt like she wanted to peel each inch off and throw it away. She wanted to start fresh. She wanted to be clean. However, nothing could be done to stop the pain of her loss, the absolute ache she felt. She had been the cause of Madalina's death. _Yes_, the villagers had done it because they believed the little blonde angel was a child of Dracula's, but they only did so because of the choices Ileana made. Ileana chose to bring her home. Ileana chose to be with Dracula, despite the obvious implications that could bring. Ileana chose to take Madalina out beyond the safety of the castle walls. Ileana chose to sleep in that fateful day.

It had only been two weeks since she lost Madalina, and already life felt unbearable. Without that little blonde girl, Ileana had to face the reality of her situation for the first time in a long time. She was the living dead, sentenced to immortality and a lust for the blood of others. It was disgusting; the guilt she felt each time she drank from another, even if they were already dead, gnawed away at her. She was in love with the man who murdered her uncle, the one man in her life who she had ever truly cared for, and continued to pine for him even after the death of Madalina. Her existence had diminished into this moping, sobbing, whining thing that moved from her bedroom to the laboratory and back again over the course of a night. Nothing was productive. Nothing excited her right now. She felt herself sinking back into a desperate place, the same place she had been after her uncle had died, after Dracula had turned her, and it was so depressing to think that she was going to repeat that misery for a third time.

She hadn't seen much of her lover since she rebuffed his offer to use Madalina in one of their next attempts to bring the vampire children to life. The thought of that little girl being brought back to life, even if momentarily, was horrific. It would have been sheer agony, and she would have died again just as quickly as Aleera's children had. No, now she had a permanent home in the forest. Ileana spent the majority of her night moping around Madalina's grave. She didn't have a chance to bury her uncle, so this was the only place where she had a chance to mourn the death of a loved one.

She had loved her. Ileana had loved Madalina with all her heart, and she couldn't seem to keep herself away for much longer than a day. Today she would try. Instead of dragging herself out of the castle after sunset, Ileana managed to keep herself busy with books – fiction, not medical – in order to block out the temptation to visit Madalina. It was difficult. She hadn't fed in quite some time, which meant distractions, no matter how small, were more obvious than usual.

Somehow she managed to keep herself in her room. She sat in the dark reading a horrible work of fiction about a man creating a monster, something that hit far too close to home for her liking. Eventually, she tossed the book aside. There was nothing to preoccupy her time with anymore. She didn't want to see her lover. Normally, she and Madalina would be doing some sort of activity – perhaps eating dinner together – before she got the girl ready for bed. She would have been awake for the majority of the day with her, and once she had the child asleep, it wouldn't take long before she too desired some rest. Now, she was restless. Sleep seemed unwelcome. It wasn't that she dreamed, but when she tried to sleep, she found she couldn't. She couldn't lull herself into comfort and silence because there was none of that within her to begin with. Finally, after hours of moping, sighing, and picking at her nails, Ileana dragged herself out of her bedroom and forced herself to walk the lonely halls of the castle.

Everything was covered in dust. She hadn't bothered to clean, and Igor wasn't about to either. Therefore, it seemed the two were content to live in filth. The halls smelled terrible. She could detect the scent of rotted food in the kitchens, and she knew it was because Dracula had insisted they cut of ties with the village. She wasn't particularly sure how Igor was going to thrive without nourishment, but it was barely a concern. The man could have died sometime in the night and Ileana wouldn't have batted an eye at her "loss". She cared as much about Igor's imminent death as she did about the shade of the moon that night – not at all. However, she would miss having someone bumbling around the castle if he was gone. She was fairly sure her lover wouldn't hire another assistant, and life would become terribly lonely. Not to say it wasn't lonely now, but there was some small measure of comfort when she knew that there was another body somewhere else in the castle.

Unfortunately, that other body was only just tolerable to look at, and Ileana felt her stomach churn whenever he hobbled out from somewhere unexpectedly. She had started to ignore his heartbeat, as it had nothing special to it, so the human somehow managed to surprise her whenever he appeared out of nowhere. This time, he was scurrying out of her uncle's old office, a stack of worn papers in hand, muttering under his breath in Romanian.

"What are you doing?" she demanded sharply, her eyes narrowing at the papers in his hand.

"We start up again soon," he grunted, shrugging his hunched shoulders, "and the Master says I need to read some things over again."

"Why would we start again?" Ileana snapped, "We have no children, no conductor-"

"The blonde wife is pregnant," Igor told her nonchalantly. "So, we start again soon. Maybe we can get the little girl from the ground-"

"Don't speak about her!" Ileana shouted, her eyes flashing dangerously at the man as he cowered, "Don't even think about her! She will not be a part of this madness! Not now, not ever again!"

"I only suggested it to make you happy-"

"I hardly think it was _your_ suggestion," she snarled, pushing past him toward the entrance of the laboratory.

The giant room stood before her, instruments and gauges glaring at Ileana as though they knew some horrible secret that she was not privy to. In that very moment, she hated them. She hated all the medical equipment and the implications that they had, and she hated her life with them. She screamed a horrible, anguished scream, and then slammed the door to the laboratory behind her angrily. Without a second thought, she launched herself at the equipment, ripping things from the walls and hurling them across the room. Metal shattered into dozens of small pieces, and she could hardly explain the immense satisfaction she got from it. She broke glass coverings, gauges, and shredded electrical wiring. Sparks raged angrily in retaliation, catching on her dress and hair as she moved through the chaos. What did it matter? The little fires were easily stamped out, and Ileana hardly felt a thing.

She shattered the windows, shouting, cursing, snarling at just about anything and everything she could get her hands on. For a moment, she heard the wooden door creak open, and Ileana turned back savagely, shrieking for Igor to get out. The man looked absolutely horrified, and she was sure she looked like the very monster that lurked beneath her skin. She couldn't quite pinpoint what brought on the rage so suddenly, but she was sure it had to do with the fact that Marishka was pregnant, and her lover was going to try again without a care in the world for her mourning period. Well, no. She would have none of that. No one was going to be doing anything for anyone in the near future, especially after she massacred all of the precious medical equipment Dracula had worked so hard to purchase.

There was a roar from somewhere deep within the castle, and it reverberated off the walls. It pierced her very being, and although it made her quake with terror, Ileana felt a smile slip onto her face. She wanted him to see. She wanted him to see what she had done, and what she was capable of doing. The last time she hurt this terribly over the loss of a loved one, she let him break her down. She was weak. She hid in her room and wept. No, this time she was allowed to have anger because now she was strong, strong enough to counter him and his anger.

The heavy wooden doors to the laboratory were suddenly thrown open, dragged off their thick hinges, and Ileana watched them clatter to the ground as though they were thin planks of wood. Her lover stood in the doorway, his face livid as he gazed upon her destruction.

"What have you done?" he snarled, storming into the room with such fury that Ileana backed away, her courage faltering. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You were going to start again!" she shrieked, pushing over a shelving unit filled with small vials of fluid. "You were going to do this again as though nothing had happened! Life goes on, apparently!"

"Life _does_ go on!" Dracula shouted in return, his voice thundering throughout the room. "You cannot sit around like some _child_ because a human was killed. They die all the time!"

"All the humans that have died in this castle have done so because of _you_," she sneered, stumbling away as he lunged at her. She cried out, narrowly avoiding his lengthy nails as she darted behind some broken equipment and out the other side. "They have died for _this_! Science has limits! Everything has a point that we reach and we must stop-"

"Immortals have no such thing," he scoffed, following her though the wreckage. "You have set me back several months with your outburst, Ileana, and you will fix it."

"I will do no such thing!" she insisted furiously. "This is your punishment for them taking my girl. You can't blame them… They react to your actions!"

"My punishment comes from God, not you," Dracula stated, his eyes narrowing. "You will fix this. You will sweet talk your little doctor to send us more supplies-"

"When you bring new equipment into this castle, I will destroy it," Ileana told him, walking into a table as she kept her eyes trained on Dracula. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she wanted to see him snap, react, do something that would justify the damage she wanted to do to him. He looked as though he wanted to hit her, and Ileana goaded him on, "If Marishka's children die waiting for the new equipment… Who will they blame? Me? You? Both of us?"

"No more of them will die," Dracula snapped, reaching out to grab her once more. However, she rolled over the table. He lunged after her again, this time catching her by the arm and slamming her face first into the wall. Her head cracked against his noisily, and for half a moment she saw stars in her eyes. "You will make up for your mistake, my love. You will fix this, and you will come up with new ideas for our conductor. Something stronger-"

"I will compromise anything and everything you bring into this castle," Ileana repeated softly, her eyes narrowing. "I will kill your conductors, I will break your equipment, and I will burn your medical books."

"If you do," he hissed in her ear, but she cut him off.

"You'll what?" Ileana inquired, turning her head to the side, her nails picking at the wall, "Will you kill me? End my suffering? You have nothing more to take from me… No more leverage."

He snarled noisily in her ear, and then yanked her head to the side, exposing her neck. Before she could protest, hoping to interject with some sarcastic pun, he sunk his teeth into her flesh, forcing a squeal out of her. There was no gentleness, no sensuality: only pain. She pushed off against the wall, only to feel as if she was up against another. Crushed between two solid surfaces, Ileana scratched at his face, but her strength dwindled as he drank from her. Perhaps he was going to kill her. For a blissful moment, she felt relieved. However, that was short-lived, and when he pulled back abruptly, she crumbled to the ground, legs too weak to hold her body up.

The wound healed slowly, and Ileana could feel the skin stitching itself back together. He crouched down behind her.

"Now… You will listen to me."

His voice was eerily calm, focused, and Ileana hardly had the energy to push him away when he turned her around to face him. However, before he could speak, she spat in his face.

That was all she had the energy for, even with her rapidly healing body. The wound may have healed, but her insides felt hollow.

Dracula stared at her for a moment, and then wiped the insult from his face. He then rose to his feet and wrapped a hand around a clump of her hair, silently dragging her out of the laboratory. She protested violently, shouting at him to release her, that he was hurting her, all the while feeling her weakened body being dragged across the stone floors of the castle. At one point, she spotted Igor cowering in a corner, and he almost appeared pleased to see her handled so callously.

Ileana managed to find her footing when they hit the stairwell, and she tried to yank her hair out of his grasp. The action proved fruitless, and unless she wanted to take off a good chunk of her scalp in the process, it seemed that the struggling was pointless.

When he finally stopped, she saw that he had taken her to his old room. It had also collected a great deal of dust in its disuse; Ileana had used it with Madalina for games of chess and reading, but now it no longer had a purpose. He pulled her forward violently and flung her over his coffin, the first place they had been intimate together.

"Apologize to me," he demanded. His voice continued to be even, and Ileana almost wished he had shouted at her. The anger would have been better; she understood the anger.

"No."

"I won't ask you again today, Ileana. Apologize… now."

"No," she hissed, staring down at the coffin beneath her angrily. He then grabbed hold of her arm again and hauled her off the smooth surface, kicking its lid off it in the process. Ileana floundered about, limbs flailing here and there, and then grunted a little as he hoisted her up and in, pushing her down so that she was flat against the carpeted surface inside.

"You will stay here until you apologize," he snarled. "You will not feed, you will not speak to anyone, and you will suffer alone until you do as I say."

She lashed out at him, hoping to scratch his face with her nails, but he managed to avoid her just in time. He glared down at her, and then hauled the coffin's lid back up, encasing her in darkness. Ileana screamed, slamming her fists and knees against the lid, terrified to find that it barely budged. She continued to pound against it; the lid couldn't hold her in on its own, and once Dracula released it, she was sure she could pry it open in a matter of minutes. However, she went at it for the better part of an hour, and she knew Dracula wouldn't linger around to hold the lid down. Horrified, she began to panic, knowing full well that Dracula would make good on his word to starve her in darkness and silence until she gave in to him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I was super excited to write this chapter. Unfortunately, the actual process felt like pulling teeth. I have all these ideas in mind for Ileana and this story (both prequels and sequels and everything), but they can get overwhelming sometimes. Also, I had finals, and I moved… And with the moving, I lost my cosy writing spot back at the other place. I know it seems silly, but for a long time I haven't been able to feel comfortable at the new place with a new positioning of my desk, and all that… Weird, I know, but there we go. **

**Ileana and Dracula's relationship has to be one of my favourites because of its volatility. They both desire and love one another (in his own way, mind you), but I think they also have the capacity to absolutely hate the other without a care for the relationship and its future. That's always so interesting to me, and as of right now, I'm not sure how it is going to play out with the rest of the story. **


	34. Verona: One Month

She hadn't heard from anyone for quite some time now. Ileana felt as though she was slowly losing her mind. Although she barely needed her senses, they seemed to be disappearing with sheer lack of use. There was nothing to look at aside from the inside of the coffin, which was fairly bland and dark. Her skin had adjusted to the feel of it sometime ago, and now whenever she shifted, she barely felt the contact against her flesh. There was no scent, aside from the occasion waft of her scabbed finger nails. She had scratched at the top of the coffin so terribly at first, and she didn't have the energy or ability to heal herself properly; so, instead of fresh, new fingertips, she was left with bloody stumps of half-formed nails. The only sense that felt functional was her ability to hear, and only just barely. Every so often, she would pick up on Igor shuffling around nearby, but that was it… Otherwise, Ileana was hopelessly alone in a box. No one had come to her rescue.

When her rage subsided, Ileana pondered whether or not she should just give it. After all, apologizing would certainly make things easier, and she had caused absolute havoc in the laboratory because of her emotional state. However, she firmly told herself that she couldn't drag herself back to him and ask for forgiveness. Dracula had brought her here. Dracula had murdered her uncle. Dracula, indirectly, caused for the death of Madalina. Dracula locked her away. Dracula had tortured her in every way possible. All of this was because of _him_, not her! She did love him, and that was the unfortunate irony of it. Sickeningly enough, a part of her wanted him to come back and take her out of the coffin – he would insist that he hadn't meant to hurt her, only lost his temper, and they would be able to patch things up from where they had left off. Now, as naïve as she could be sometimes, she wasn't naïve enough to think he would give in first. The look in his eyes when he locked her in there was sheer rage, and she knew his punishment would be equally serious.

But did she deserve it? All of this had been thrust upon her, and she was reacting to whatever life – or lack thereof – gave her in the only way she knew how. What was the normal way to endure this sort of life? Was she supposed to bow her head, nod, and move on as though nothing had happened? Should she have fought him more? Should she have taken her own life successfully? Should she have just loved him? Being trapped in a coffin seemed to give her a lot of time to think, but no matter how much she pondered her past and future, nothing really seemed to make much sense to her. There was no clear answer for anything, and as time ticked by, she felt herself physically shrinking. The lack of blood had taken its toll; aside from the ruined fingernails, her cheeks felt sunken, as did the skin around her eyes, and the bones were far more noticeable around all of her joints.

Was she dying? Had he locked her in here to starve her? Could vampires die? More questions, and seemingly endless time to ponder them. The hunger was excruciating, but Ileana had reached a point where the pain had simply numbed her, and she no longer truly felt the agony of her empty body unless she shifted around too much. Therefore, she tried to keep still, eyes closed, breathing for the sake of something to keep her mind on. If she didn't focus on her breathing, she'd wander off into the never-ending realm of questions. There was simply too much going on in her head, too many emotions to work out… Sometimes it was interesting to wander through the maze, but other times it was far too overwhelming, and it was easier to focus on something as rhythmic as the rise and fall of her chest, the expanding and dispersing of her lungs.

Finally, one day she heard something more than the shuffling about of Igor's crooked feet. There was the sound of a door opening, and Ileana's ears strained to hear more. She swallowed, her throat dry and hoarse, and she ran her ruined fingers along the top of her prison. There were footsteps, so soft that she wondered if she might have been making them up. Perhaps it was just something that she wanted to hear… However, moments before she sunk into her misery again, she heard nails drag along the side of the coffin, and her eyes widened as someone pushed the lid off with such infuriating ease.

As soon as free air collided with the stale air in her coffin, she wanted to do nothing more than leap out of her prison and bolt for freedom. However, Ileana barely had the energy to lift her head, left alone lift her entire body, and she merely struggled weakly as a result, gasping for air she didn't truly need. She had expected Dracula to appear before her, smug in her weakness, but instead she was met with another brunette she had come to know too well.

"You look awful," Verona commented, wrinkling her nose distastefully as she surveyed Ileana's figure. "Starvation doesn't suit you."

She tried to come back with some witty retort, but her whisper was barely audible to her own extra-sensitive ears, and she merely bobbed her up and down, mouth opening and closing like some bizarre fish.

"Now, now," the vampire clucked, shaking her head as she examined a nail. "Don't exert yourself. My husband has sent me to see if you've decided to repent."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and Ileana blinked a few times. He had sent someone else to see if she would apologize? Didn't he care what she looked like at all?

"So? Will you apologize to him?"

Ileana responded with something that sounded like a strangled laugh and a cough, and Verona sighed, rolling her eyes as though she was dealing with a petulant child.

"Well, I suppose you've extended your sentence then," the vampire told her, "but he won't see you starve. My husband is exceptional in his kindness."

Her last comment sounded a tad monotone, which made the younger vampire quite curious. However, when Verona produced a sheer bottle filled with red liquid from out of nowhere, Ileana ignored the implications of her somewhat sarcastic comment regarding Dracula's kindness. She threw her arms out at them, using her last bit of real energy in an attempt to snatch it away from her fellow vampire. However, Verona simply moved an inch to the side and Ileana missed horribly, earning her a cry.

"We aren't barbarians," Verona noted irritably, setting the bottle on the side of the coffin. She then proceeded to haul Ileana up into a seated position. She was sure the vampire did it so Ileana could have a little dignity – or so she'd like to think – but all of the abrupt movement was especially painful on her tightened skin. However, after she took a moment or two to adjust, Ileana managed to settle in to her new spot with her back against the head of the coffin. With that sorted, Verona uncorked the bottle and brought it to Ileana's lips, tilting it up so that she could drink.

Never had blood tasted so wonderful; even when Ileana had first been turned and she was experiencing it for the first time had it been so utterly delicious. She could feel the thick liquid flow down her throat, rejuvenating her deadened limbs and bringing her mind back to a clarity that she hadn't even realized she lost. She had finished almost half of the bottle before Verona pulled it away, and though she wanted to protest, she realized she should savour the sensation for as long as possible. She leaned back against the coffin, wiping the corners of her mouth.

"How long have I been in here?" she asked after a very long pause, glancing at Verona.

"A month," the brunette replied with a shrug. "I'm not sure what would have happened if I hadn't come today."

Ileana reached for the bottle again. She wasn't completely restored, but she was feeling a little better with the cool blood circulating her system.

"Why did you come?" she asked as she took another sip, restraining so that she wouldn't down the remainder of the blood in a single gulp.

"Well, I was the only one that isn't completely infuriated with you," Verona explained calmly, returning to her nails. "My husband is still… sensitive to your conflict, and you destroyed the laboratory, which means you've put quite the stress for Marishka's children. What will they do now that you've destroyed the equipment?"

Ileana shook her head, "How can you hate me the least?"

"Life is so full of surprises, my dear," Verona mused, head cocked to the side as she watched Ileana finish the last drops of blood. "Give that to me."

She stuck her finger in the opening of the bottle, scooping out the bits of blood along the rim, and then whimpered as the vampire snatched it away from her. After licking her fingers clean, she contemplated making a dash for it. Unfortunately, the blood now wasn't going to be enough for her to outmatch Verona for speed or strength. So, when Verona pushed down on her shoulder, Ileana begrudgingly slid down and settled in, staring blankly at the ceiling one last time as her fellow vampire entombed her once again.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Hello all! So I know this is a little short, but I intend to do this chapter in three parts. The following will all focus on Ileana and Verona's odd relationship, and will hopefully all be finished within the next week or so. I would wait and post them all at once, but I really just wanted to get this out. I'm about to write my first midterm of the summer, and working, so my writing time has gone down quite a bit. Plus my muse for all my other stories seems to have faltered a bit, so this is the only one I was up for working on. **

**As always, your reviews are always appreciated – they always give me something to think about, positive or negative!**


	35. Verona: Two Months

With a little blood in her system, the month that followed Verona's visit was only a little more tolerable. She knew not to damage her body in the way she had the first time around because she couldn't stand to sit for so long without it healing. Instead, she tried to lay in peace, keeping herself relaxed and focused on survival. The cool blood kept her a little more alert this time around, and she wasn't as disorientated in her little black box. She slept, even though she didn't need to, and she found she could push her thoughts to one corner of her brain and keep them there, only retrieving them when she truly wanted to address the issues.

It was difficult to suppress the anger, the sorrow, and the confusion. She raged over the fact that Dracula thought this was an acceptable way to punish her for reacting to his decisions. She wept for many things: her predicament, the loss of love from Dracula, and the ache in her bones as each day ticked by and she had no blood to replenish herself. She thought for hours about how to get out of this mess, what she should have done differently, and where she might have been if her uncle had never accepted the assignment from a certain handsome stranger so long ago.

Firstly, her uncle would have still been alive, though she was sure he would be no closer to being accepted into a scientific order somewhere in Europe. It had always been his dream, but whenever he went away to make a presentation, he returned home dejected. Never deterred, mind you, but she knew that there were many out there who would have never taken his work seriously. Even if she tried to broach them today, she was fairly sure they would have laughed her right out of their offices, just as they did with her uncle. Although, her uncle did not have any supernatural powers, and Ileana did… If she were to persuade the right people to accept the Frankenstein-kind of science, perhaps she might be able to get somewhere.

However, all that would depend on if she could ever escape Dracula, and if she even wanted to. She hated the man, yet she desired his affections once more. This was the longest they had gone without seeing one another after they had openly expressed their love, and she felt as though she was suffering from the removal of some sort of toxin in her system. All she wanted was for him to embrace her again, insist that all was forgiven, and treat her delicately. Well, that was what the fantasy in her desired. Her logic, her realism, knew that he would never handle her with care, not unless he wanted something from her.

Isn't that how all men behaved? Wouldn't they act a certain way to get something from a woman? There had been no mother around to school her in these matters, which was disappointing. Although she found female roles in society dreadfully boring, she might have been better off if she had some sense in her head about the ways of men and women. If that had been in there, instead of science and anatomy, maybe she would have known how to handle herself under the Count's flirtations. The more she thought about it, however, the more she realized she would rather be intellectual and bright than another prototypical woman who only wanted a man and children. It had never been her calling, and once she threw her brain to some higher purpose, she couldn't rein it back in even if she tried.

Now, her confusion wasn't only related to her own personal issues about the dichotomy between men and women. No, Ileana spent some time thinking about Verona, and her obscure reaction to Ileana's imprisonment. She seemed… caring. It was so odd, but Ileana assumed the vampire would stroll in only to gloat over her, pleased with Ileana's suffering. However, when she came to visit the previous time, there was nothing in her eyes that insisted she was specifically happy with the fact that Ileana in particular was locked in the coffin. Rather, the vampire bride seemed content that progress had come to a halt for Marishka. She had always thought the brides were a union, seeing each other as sisters rather than wives of the same man. When one was upset, she assumed the rest would be too. She could only imagine the blonde bride and her anxiety over the laboratory being redone in time to try the experiment again on her children. However, Verona seemed incredibly relaxed at the thought of her friend (for lack of better wording) and those children suffering because of Ileana's outburst.

Oddly enough, that seemed like the easier thing for her to think about. She found it time-consuming and emotional to focus too heavily on the issues she had with her lover, so it was simpler to debate the dynamics of the three other women in her life instead. She had thought about them before, but never on such a detailed level, and it managed to take up a great deal of her time in the darkness.

One night, Ileana heard a familiar sound; the door opening, footsteps padding along, and nails scraping against the side of her coffin. She shifted, saliva springing to her tongue at the thought of someone bringing her something to drink again. Her taut skin screamed for nourishment, and she lifted her hands to the roof of her prison, pushing against it weakly. Moments later, her call was answered, that silent pleading rewarded, and the top was pushed off.

Just like before, Verona leaned over, her nose wrinkled, and observed Ileana. This time, however, she could sit up on her own. It took quite a great deal of effort, but Ileana eventually got herself into a seated position, her skin stretching and twisting, eyes bulging as they searched for the blood hat Verona had brought last time.

"You aren't quite as terrible this time around," Verona commented, holding up a skinny bottle of red liquid and sloshing it about just out of arm's reach, "but still quite a mess… Will you apologize?"

It was incredibly difficult to draw her gaze away from the bottle, and if she could, she would have snatched it right up. Unfortunately, while she might have had the ability to sit up on her own, there was no way she could lift her body up and move it around.

She contemplated Verona's question for a moment, and then narrowed her gaze, "Will he apologize to _me_?"

The dark-haired vampire snorted loudly, placing a dainty, well-groomed hand in front of her mouth, and Ileana had her answer, "Then no… I don't apologize."

"Stubborn thing," Verona purred, shoving the bottle into Ileana's outstretched hands. "You've earned yourself another month… How much longer can you endure this punishment?"

She said nothing, opting instead to uncork the bottle and wrap her lips around the top. It took every ounce of restraint she had in her, but she managed to pull it away after two large gulps. She wanted to make it last longer than last time; she wanted to savour it. Her skin rejoiced at the rejuvenation, and she could feel her cheeks start to inflate with fresh blood in her system.

"The hospital had no more equipment to send us," Verona explained as she picked at her nails. "Marishka's children will be born in a month… and we will have nothing to do for them."

Ileana quirked an eyebrow, and Verona added, "My husband is furious."

She took another sip, another glorious sip, and then licked her lips clean. It was so difficult not to chug the entire thing down in one go, so she opted for conversation to keep her distracted.

"You seem fairly calm about the whole thing," Ileana commented. "Are you upset that your sister's children-"

"She is _not_ my sister," Verona remarked stiffly, her nostrils flaring indignantly. "They are sisters, but they are not mine by blood."

"All right, but you share a kinship," Ileana sighed, irritated that there were lines drawn around those small differences. "Why are you so pleased with her failure?"

"I'm hardly pleased, my dear," Verona commented. "Of course I want there to be success. I wish for this experiment to finally work… I will finally be able to give my husband the children I promised him when we were first married…"

"You will," Ileana deduced, "but not Marishka."

"We all will," Verona snapped, waving the notion aside as she surveyed the surrounding room. Ileana gave it a quick look too; it had collected an obscene amount of dust since she had been imprisoned, and her love really could have done with hiring someone to clean it once a week. Igor was, no doubt, quite useless.

"You can dart around it all you like, but we both know you're not as upset as you could be that Marishka's children won't even have the opportunity to participate in my uncle's experiment," Ileana said after a moment of so of thoughtful silence. Verona glared down at her, crossing her legs in a dignified manner.

"Don't presume to know what I'm thinking," the vampire snapped, making Ileana sigh.

"You're being defensive," she reasoned, "and it's because I'm correct, isn't it?"

Verona studied her for a moment, and then leaned in closer, her breath rank with rich blood, "I am the first bride. I was his wife in life, so I should be the first to have my children live."

"I knew it!" Ileana babbled, her eyes gleaming triumphantly. "There's no sisterhood amongst any of you, is there? You have your own goals, and you'll do what's necessary to see them through."

"I hardly did anything to see this come to fruition," Verona insisted lightly, as though this was hardly something to be concerned over. "You seem to have done everything for me, and for that, I suppose I should thank you."

"Well, I'm glad someone is pleased with me," she muttered, taking another sip of her only nutrition for the next month.

"Oh, I'll never admit it," Verona told her, "and I'll deny everything should you dare bring it up."

"I'm not that thick," Ileana remarked, sticking her long finger in the bottle and then dragging it out to lick the blood. "I just find the relationship interesting."

"Not immoral and twisted?" the vampire inquired, poking fun at what she perceived to, no doubt, be some sort of Victorian morality.

"It isn't for me personally, and I think it should be obvious why," Ileana said frankly. "It seems so competitive… Don't you care about Marishka and Aleera?"

"Of course I do!" the vampire sneered, "I wouldn't let him have them if I didn't care for them… You seem to think you know so much, Ileana Frankenstein, and yet you can barely begin to fathom the relationship I have with both of those women. It seems far beyond your comprehension… Perhaps in time…"

"I have eternity, don't I?"

"Unfortunately."

"You are endlessly confusing to me," Ileana stated after she took another sip. "Why can't you just say what you're thinking?"

"Don't be a hypocrite, Ileana," the vampire cooed, shaking her head at her as though she was a small child. "When do we ever say exactly what we are thinking? It is hardly my fault that you cannot read my subtleties."

"I think you prefer it that way."

"I would prefer if he would just leave you here to wither into a pile of ash," Verona mused, pursing her lips, "but I can't always have what I prefer."

"But you will when your children are first, won't you?" Ileana asked, ignoring her previous statement pointedly.

"My children will be first," Verona told her, "and that much is certain in my mind. We are close… but he will need you again, I'm sure. So, he won't abandon you to your well-deserved fate."

"How do I deserve it?" Ileana snapped, her eyes narrowing a little, "How do I deserve to be punished for trying to leave him? For loving him?"

The vampire sighed, "We are _all_ punished for loving him."

Ileana blinked in surprise, shocked at Verona's candidness. The vampire rose to her feet, and then smoothed down the front of her silk dress. She cocked her head to the side, staring at Ileana for a moment or so, and then began to shift the lid of the coffin back into place.

"But I'm not finished," Ileana argued, ducking her head a little to avoid knocking it.

"Keep the bottle," Verona told her through the narrow crack of light. "Keep your teeth busy. I'll see you in a month."

Ileana shifted back down, careful not to spill a precious mouthful of her meal. If she was careful, this could last for another day or so. However, the smell soon became too overwhelming in such a small space, and before she knew it, Ileana finished it within the hour.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I'm pretty pumped to write a prequel to this detailing the history of Verona, Aleera and Marishka with Dracula. Not quite sure when I'll start… I'd like to wrap some other stories up first, but I'll probably start it before I finish this one, just so I can let you lovely readers know when it's up! Thanks, as always, for the wonderful reviews!**


	36. Verona: Three Months

Verona had given her a lot to think about during their last visit, and a bottle to gnaw on in order to take away the boredom. It was now well into her third month of solitude, and Ileana spent less time brooding over her and Dracula's relationship. In fact, she barely thought about it at all; what else was there to think about? She had assessed the positives, the negatives, the past, and the future, and she had reached a point in her thought process where she simply couldn't think about it anymore. Instead, she thought about the dichotomy of his brides, wondering how any of them were accepting of the strange relationship they found themselves in.

Did they really have a choice? Had there been others over the years, or had it been almost three centuries of those four living together, unhinged and defying social norms? Verona said she had been the first… How could she have accepted the fact that her husband wanted to bring two other women into their relationship? She had read about polygyny in the Arab nations, but her book insisted it was done in order to steadily increase the population. After all, if one man was married to many women, he had a better chance of producing more children at a higher rate than if he was married to only one. In Europe, she knew most men simply kept a mistress, and would occasionally acknowledge a bastard if that meant there would be an heir to their line. Did this way make more sense?

Verona insisted that she did care for the women, but it was clear that the negative emotions lingered in their relationship. However, that had to be what it was like in any family; sometimes she and her uncle fought, and as she muddled through her teen years, she found sometimes he annoyed her endlessly, made her want to scream, and she went through a phase where she thought she was better than him because she wasn't hell-bent on making insane experiments a reality. Ileana realized they were a family. It was a dysfunctional family, but Verona, Aleera, and Marishka were some sort of odd combination of women who constituted a family. Was it a modern one, or were they an ancient breed that was more common all those many years ago?

They were all there because they loved one man, and in theory he reciprocated in the only way a man could. She had seen the way he looked at them, and the way he sometimes gazed at her when they were alone, and Ileana knew it was a strange sort of love that couldn't quite be explained. But was that enough? Was it enough to have a third of a man's love, now a fourth, and be forced to watch as he gave the rest to different women? Did any of them, Verona especially, feel that the connection she had with the other two women justified never having a full connection again with the man who was once her husband?

Sometimes Ileana shook her head, baffled by the situation that those other women found themselves in. However, there wasn't much that she could pass judgement on, because aside from the fact that she wasn't 'technically' a bride, her lot in life didn't seem all that much different. Perhaps, at one point, Aleera decided she was upset with Dracula, and like Ileana, she wanted to leave. There was this power the man had over them, this pull that kept them there because, deep down, they were desperately in love with everything he is and was, and potentially what he will be. After all, if by some miracle they did manage to bring his children to life, he could have thousands of small vampires doing his biding by the end of the year. The human population would be doomed, and Ileana would be an idiot to argue that a powerful man was not an attractive man.

So there they were, four women who were supposed to be fairly intelligent – or Ileana would have assumed – and they were willing to share themselves with one man who could twist them in any direction he wished. Ileana didn't want to be that person, but when she looked at Verona, so bitter but adoring toward her husband, she couldn't help but see herself in the vampire. Perhaps not anytime soon, but it was a depressing thought to think that in the end, Ileana would settle. After all, three women had already done it before her, so why should she be any different. She wasn't any stronger, physically or emotionally, than any of them. She might have been more intellectual, but in retrospect she had no idea if the others had bettered their minds over their time on this earth. They couldn't be idiots… Dracula wouldn't surround himself with women who had air for brains.

Mind you, she wasn't particularly sure why the man thought to surround himself with women in the first place. Was it because they were the weaker sex? Did he simply want there to be a group of adoring ladies to look up to him throughout all of his accomplishments? Did he genuinely enjoy the company of women that much that he would make three of them to spend eternity with him, and then suddenly a fourth? There were so many questions that Ileana could ponder while she was locked away, and no answers in sight. That was why this could be so frustrating; she could assume whatever she wanted when it came to Dracula, his wives, and their relationship, but as long as she was trapped in this coffin, starving, there was nothing she could do to find an answer.

She had gotten good at counting the days simply based on Igor's patterns in the castle. Even though she had finished her blood within an hour of Verona's last departure, the vampire had brought her more than before, which meant her senses stayed in-tune for longer. She could hear the footsteps of the man when he rose, when he shuffled around the castle, and when he finally retired. She wasn't particularly sure of his sleeping pattern – diurnal or nocturnal – but she was sure it was accurate enough to assume that when she first heard him after several long hours of silence he was waking up. From there, if she wasn't lost in her own head, it was easy to follow him over the course to day, or night, until he finally retired again. From all of those cycles, she estimated it had been roughly a month since her last visit with Verona, and the estimate was proven correct when the same old door creaked open.

Ileana perked at the sound of heeled shoes strolling toward the coffin, and she licked her lips eagerly at the thought being brought something to sustain her a little longer. Nails trailed along the side of her prison, and she traced their path with her own, waiting in silence. Verona took her time, tapping her heel on the floor for a moment or so, until she finally removed the lid of Ileana's coffin at such a painstakingly slow pace that she wanted to scream. However, when she saw the woman's bored face, she smiled up at her, the skin across her cheeks stretching tight over her cheekbones.

"You seem to be getting better with each month," Verona stated. She took a seat on the edge of the coffin as Ileana sat up, and then produced a very small cup of blood from behind her back. The stench was overwhelming, but the size barely lived up to her expectations.

"That's it?" Ileana asked, staring at it in surprise. "Verona, I'll shrivel away if I don't-"

"This has gone on long enough," the vampire told her, shoving the cup in her hand. Ileana winced as a little bit spilled over the side, but she managed to catch it on her finger. "Marishka's children will start to rot in a few weeks, and we are no closer to finding a way to make the experiment a success."

"I'm sorry," Ileana muttered, the cup of blood shoved up under her nose. Verona smirked.

"You aren't, but I'll tell Marishka you said it anyway," she mused, clacking her nails together. They were always so perfectly kept, and Ileana glanced down at her own, noting that although they had healed, they were quite discoloured and uneven.

"So, is this his plan then?" Ileana asked after she took a sip, "Starve me with only a cup of blood so I'll _have_ to come out?"

"Actually, it's my plan," Verona told her flatly. "He's so moody without you around to be the cause of his anger… He doesn't know who to take it out on anymore, and it's starting to bother me."

Ileana blinked up at her, and then took another small sip, "It's bothering you?"

"Plus I don't want to do _this_ every month for the rest of our days," she told Ileana, cocking her head to the side. "I think it's time you apologize and we can get on with our lives. I'm sick of stasis."

"I shouldn't have to apologize," Ileana snapped. "He's left me in here for three months and doesn't have the decency to see if I'm still …"

"What? Still alive?"

"Well, in theory," she muttered, taking a gulp of her blood, unable to sip it anymore. "He's done far worse to me than I've-"

"Oh, Ileana," Verona groaned, rolling her eyes upward. "Save it. Enough of this… I assume you didn't have a mother to bestow this type of advice on you, so let me be the first."

Ileana opened her mouth, about to come back with some retort, but then slowly closed it again, sticking to her drink instead.

"Men will never apologize," Verona explained, leaning a little closer. "They will never grovel, unless they want to take you to bed, and they will never admit they were wrong, even if you both know it. They expect the woman to take the blame, and we do. We do, because we know deep down that everyone knows who the bigger person is here… We're right, they're wrong, and that is acknowledged, even if it isn't out loud."

"Well, what's the point?"

"The point is," she continued, her eyes narrowing a tad, "that the fight is over, and _you_ won. Oh, he seems to think he's come off as the victor because you gave in first, but really, you both know you did it because he's too stubborn to, and that's the way things will always be. You would be superior, Ileana, not him."

Ileana snorted, "Stop trying to say what you think I want to hear."

"I'm telling you how the world works between men and women," the vampire snapped sharply. "This is how we handle conflict. It saves us the trouble, and they come out feeling like they've won some great battle. We know the truth, Ileana. We know who runs the relationship, and it certainly isn't him."

"You're delusional if you think he doesn't control any of us," Ileana muttered, tapping her finger against her cup, "but I can… see your point. Apologize, but not mean it… and then just move on."

"Well… More or less, yes," Verona said after a moment of contemplating, giving her a nod. "It isn't difficult to keep a man pleased with you, my dear. You simply need to learn all the right tricks."

"Oh, are you going to teach me?"

"No," the vampire purred, snatching the cup from her hands, "this is just a little tip to get you through this crisis. You're on your own for the next one, and I'm sure there will be one soon."

"Hey…"

"I'll tell my husband you're willing to crawl on your hands and knees to him," Verona insisted, pushing Ileana back down. "He'll know how sorry you are, how much you miss him… and when he comes for you, you had better live up to my stories."

"Can't I finish that?"

"Ileana," she hissed, grabbing her chin with such force that she winced, "I am doing you a favour. Do not make me regret it."

She nodded quickly, but her eyes lingered on the cup in Verona's other hand. The brunette snarled and released her, and then hauled the lid of the coffin back over, encasing her in darkness once again.

* * *

An entire week passed before Ileana heard the sound of that familiar door open once more. She couldn't believe Verona hadn't even let her finish the small cup of blood before she disappeared, but Ileana had assumed that Dracula would be there within the day once he heard of her apology. However, she sat there, stewing for almost an entire week. She wondered if Verona had even bothered to tell Dracula about Ileana giving in. She must not have, because why would he take so long to return to her? Did he even care? She was furious that she had to wait, even though she was the one being the bigger person… Ridiculous.

However, as soon as she heard a door open and footsteps enter the room, her anger had to dissipate. The footsteps weren't quite the same as she was used to hearing, and she suddenly felt a tiny hint of anticipation knot in her stomach. They were heavier and more solid sounding; she steadied herself for the moment she had been waiting for these whole three months. She knew she didn't exactly look appealing, but hopefully she could muster a look of sheer adoration that would be passable. However, when the lid of the coffin was abruptly thrown off, clattering somewhere on the floor, the false look of love disappeared, and was instead replaced with one of concern.

Ileana flinched when Dracula's face suddenly appeared above her, a stern look in his eyes as he surveyed her. She gulped, unable to read a single flicker of emotion that passed over his face; it was as though a stone statue stared back at her. Finally, he reached into the coffin and hauled her out by her forearm, contorting and twisting the skin to something more painful than she had anticipated. However, she kept her yelp in. Her legs weren't stable enough to hold her up, but she managed to lean back against the siding of the coffin, her free hand resting against his chest. Neither said a word. Instead, Ileana gazed up into his cool blue eyes, and for a moment, everything was forgotten. He was here. He came for her.

It was only a moment of forgetfulness, but even beyond that point she wasn't sure what to say to him. She wanted to stand up for everything that Verona must have told him, but instead she merely stared at the man who she had thought endlessly about for almost three months. She knew he was waiting for her to do something, anything, to show just how sorry she was for all the trouble she had caused him, but he barely showed it.

Her body couldn't take being vertical for this long, and even while she was leaning on something she still felt her them wobble. So, she threw her arm up and around his neck, hauling herself up as she kissed him. He continued to feel solid for a moment, until she finally closed her eyes and she felt him react. The contact was overwhelming: lips to hers, a hand nestled in her hair, tugging, yanking, body pushing hers against the outer wall of her former prison. However, before she could sink into it, enjoy the moment, he turned her around sharply and pushed her over, hiking up her dress in the process.

Her body was sore. It wasn't the same pain a human would feel in this sort of situation, but she was aching and stiff, and he barely seemed to notice. Instead, he slipped one hand under her hip, and she cried out in surprise when he thrust forward, filling her in one go. Her eyes widened and she clutched at the coffin's crisp edged. He raked a hand through her hair, forcing her to arch forward as he took her. Ileana moaned, cried out, mewed, and begged him for more, and only half of it was part of her act to appear apologetic. The other half wanted it desperately, feeling complete and whole for the first time in months.

She still hated him. On principle, she had to hate him. However, when he wrapped a hand over her mouth, his pace quickening and her hips slamming noisily against the coffin, she couldn't quite hate him with the intensity she wanted. Instead, she sunk her teeth into the fleshy part of palm, her eyes rolling back as cool blood gushed into her mouth, smeared across her lips, rolled down her chin.

"You will never, ever, do something like that again," he hissed in her ear, emphasizing each word rather pointedly. "You will obey, and you will do as I tell you, when I tell you."

She moaned in response, but focused more on the free-flowing blood rather than on what he was actually saying. Yes, she would agree to everything, but because it served her purpose now. Wasn't that what Verona had been hinting at, anyway?

"If you disobey me again," he whispered, his grasp tightening on her hip as he started to slow, thrusting deep into her as she continued to drink, "I will lock you in here, and I will leave you to starve."

"I know," she managed, whimpering when he pulled his hand away. It returned to her hair instead, and she felt him shudder against her. After, he pushed her away, and for a moment she lay over the open coffin, hips on one side, head on the other. She heard him jostling around behind her, no doubt fixing himself up now that he had gotten what he wanted. Well, gotten what they both clearly wanted. She licked her lips; what she really needed was more blood, and not the cold blood from Dracula: fresh, warm, pulsating blood.

"So, when will I be back in the laboratory?" she inquired lightly, knowing the subject was going to come up at one point or another.

"You are banned from that laboratory until I can trust you," her lover told her as she pushed herself up.

"You're banning me from a room in my home?"

"Now, now, Ileana, it's _my_ castle," he mused, arching an eyebrow at her. "I thought you would be happy… You're no longer a part of the experiment. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She frowned at him as she smoothed out her dress, "I don't understand…"

"I won't risk you destroying any new equipment I bring in," he told her plainly. "So, I have a new assignment for you."

"Oh?"

"A friend concocted what he believes to be a potion that can cure a werewolf from his disease," Dracula explained as he strolled toward the door, his hands clasped together loosely behind his back. "I'd like you to make it. We will test the batches on my wolves until we get it just right."

Ileana stared at him for a moment, completely baffled by the task she had just been presented with. The casualness of his tone… It was like he had never been angry with her to begin with. She took a few steps toward him, as though unsure of herself, and then stopped, "I'm drafting a werewolf's cure?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I _told_ you to," Dracula ground out, a flash of danger suddenly noticeable in his eyes. "Any more questions?"

She shook her head quickly, mind reeling at the possibilities that awaited her now. Would this actually work? If there was a cure for werewolves, could there be a cure for vampires?

"Come along, Ileana," Dracula called as he departed from the room. "Don't you want to go hunting?"

All thoughts of werewolves and a cure vanished from her mind when he mentioned the hunt, and she sprang out the door after him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**All right, done with my ramblings about all the complexities of the relationships that these women face with each other and Dracula. I just wanted to try it out. We'll be steering back toward the normal storyline ASAP. Can't believe I actually managed to get this out within the week (ish) of what I promised. Hurray! I lack muse for my other stories, so this seems to be a main focus for the moment. **

**Thanks for the lovely reviews!**


	37. All by myself

_And the only solution was to stand and fight,  
And my body was bruised and  
I was set alight,  
But you came over me like some holy rite,  
And although I was burning,  
You're the only light_

_Only if for a night – _Florence + The Machine

Ileana stretched her body, slowly manipulating every limb and knuckle to its maximum potential. She sighed, groaned, and smiled at her lover, who ran his fingers over her naked flesh as he gazed up at the ceiling, clearly lost in a world of his own.

She had moved back into her old bedroom, opting to continue sleeping in a bed rather than a coffin, and had done so for the past week. However, most of her time had been spent in the great outdoors, and it was only then that she realized how much she enjoyed nature. She loved feeling the breeze, smelling the intricacies of flowers, and counting the stars in the dark sky from atop a nearby mountain pass. Dracula was with her sometimes, and other times she was permitted to have her space, circling the village lazily or hunting transients on mountain trails.

She made good on her promise to Verona, and managed to keep any sort of attitude or resentment toward her lover in check. In fact, Ileana thought they got along much better now than they had for several months, and it was all because she decided that she had to swallow her pride and let him think he had won. It wasn't particularly difficult to have a smooth functioning relationship with the man who she did, deep down, love, but whenever she had moments to herself, the charade gnawed at her. If she was with him, it ought to be because she truly loved him; for now, she was with him because he was going to give her a chance to explore her intellect in ways she had never done before… and she loved him. It wasn't the same deep love as before – that had never come back. No, her love was damaged now, wounded and scarred because of what he had done to her.

Regardless, it was easy to smile and pretend there was no damage, no repercussions for her months of solitude on his orders. Perhaps one day she would forgive him, and one day in an even further future they would forgive each other for the pain they've caused, but she knew it wouldn't be anytime soon. Besides, she knew he had more important things to think about. Dracula had banished her from the laboratory, and effectively made her unwelcome in her own castle, but she had watched some of his other servants haul old, broken pieces of medical equipment and factory gear in slowly over the course of her week of freedom. Nothing seemed all that functional, but she was sure her lover was relying on Igor to get them into working order.

The deformed man seemed to avoid her whenever possible, and that suited her just fine. However, for all his faults, he did spend an immeasurable amount of time in the laboratory, and when she was around to hear him work, she could tell he was keeping busy. He may not have had the ingenuity of her uncle, but she knew Dracula kept him around for the reason, and if she couldn't get her hands on any of the equipment, Igor was bound to fix them at his own pace.

She hadn't asked about the state of Marishka's children. In fact, she hadn't seen any of the brides since she was released, and Ileana assumed she wouldn't until the sting of Marishka's children's deaths eased off. It certainly didn't bother her to be kept out of the loop, but she did miss her time spent with Verona a little; they may be more similar than they had previously anticipated, and it would have been nice to have another ally in all this. However, she did entertain the possibility that Verona was simply pushing Ileana to make up with her lover so she wouldn't have to play messenger between then anymore. One day she might ask, but for now she simply enjoyed the memory of having a short-lived bond with a woman who normally loathed her.

However, most of that could be pushed out of her head whenever she wanted, because there was something more important for Ileana to think about. A cure for the affliction of being a werewolf is clearly a revolutionary feat, and she couldn't imagine something that could successfully change an age-old curse. If this 'friend' of Dracula's, who he had been fairly mum about ever since he announced her new assignment, was as brilliant as she assumed he was, Ileana couldn't understand how he would willingly give away such an important piece of himself. To her uncle, his Creation was going to be like his second child. He would have given his life for that Thing's survival, and when someone as dedicated to their craft perfects something so important, they aren't about to just give it away.

Ileana relaxed into her bed, a bed just a tad too small for two people, but adequate enough for its purpose. The sheets were scattered across the floor, along with her clothes, a sign of lovemaking. Ileana rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as she surveyed her love. She had read that men became weary after sex, sometimes going straight to sleep as soon as the act was finished. Now, they may never really tire to the point of sleep deprivation, but Ileana had always thought Dracula was the opposite of most men in this regard; he was alert, focused, and yet off in thought. Unless she dragged him back, he could sit there for hours, perfectly awake, and yet not really with her.

"My love," she prodded, spotting the shift in focus in his eye immediately. "What are you thinking about?"

"Everything," he sighed, his eyes still fixated on a point in the ceiling. "What are you thinking about?"

She blinked in surprise that he had asked the question back in return. Lips pursed, she lowered her head down to rest on her arms, "You said you'd tell me about my assignment… It's been a week already."

"Eager, are we?"

"Interested," she insisted, crawling toward him to plant a kiss on his arm. "Curious… Excited. You can't keep me guessing forever. Who is this mysterious friend?"

"I have friends around the world, Ileana," Dracula explained, bringing an arm down so that he could fiddle with her hair. "That's what happens when you live for so long… You make connections."

"I think that's only smart," she agreed.

"My friend is a man named Henry Stark," her lover told her, curling a long strand of dark hair around his finger, giving a little tug as though to ensure she was listening. "He's an American-"

"You know Americans?" Ileana said quickly, more out of disbelief than anything. They all seemed too isolated here in Romania, and when her lover told her that he had friends around the world, she assumed his world consisted mostly of this general region, with perhaps limited contacts in the Far East and England.

"Focus on the bigger picture, my love," he chided lightly, making her frown. "He's quite brilliant, and works for the American government to develop better weapons for their endlessly pointless wars against almost everyone in the New World. They have a gun there that fires automatic rounds… Did you know that? Well, Stark was heavily involved in its design."

"He sounds quite clever," Ileana decided, "but I hardly see where the science comes in with the werewolf draught."

"Ahh, you see," he said, tapping her nose as though she were a child. "It was his father that had a higher interest in the medical field… He was quite known for crusading for better operating room standards, and is a renowned doctor for brain maladies overseas. I sought him out almost forty years ago when I became privy to some of his…less savoury research. Vivisection, reanimation… He always believed there was a physical cause to every sickness, even if the opinion was unpopular."

"What happened to him?"

"The same thing that happens to all humans," Dracula mused. "He's quite old now… No longer practicing or conducting research. I believe his mind is not his own anymore… His son went into weapons because there is more money behind it. Humans need such trivial things."

She quirked an eyebrow; somehow Dracula owned several castles, so clearly money was important to vampires too.

"Now, I remained in touch with the family," Dracula continued. "Mostly out of curiosity… I've kept myself connected in one way or another with many scientific minds in the community. Your uncle was not my first choice… Stark's father had promising research, but he turned me down. He didn't want to cross the ocean to work, and no amount of money could persuade him otherwise.

Ileana ignored the usual reaction to snap at him whenever her uncle was mentioned, and instead tried to make his story straight in her mind, "So his father was the one involved in the science research, and this… Henry Stark develops weapons. So where-"

"Does this werewolf cure come from?" Dracula inquired, smiling a little. "I was lucky enough that Stark had a keen interest in the supernatural, and he, among several others, is privy to our kind. We are maddeningly terrifying to him, but also quite fascinating. His father worked with an American group of researchers who mimicked the animal vaccines that were started in France… Some twenty years ago I planted a small seed in his mind. He was also aware of the supernatural, but insisted on studying it as an illness. That man… He was more than happy to begin researching ways to cure a werewolf. He has tomes of information on lycanthropy and its origins. I asked him one day what the world would be like if we could cure it. What if we could cure werewolves?"

"But, why would you want to do that?" Ileana inquired, breaking his story's flow to satisfy her own curiosity. She could understand the humanitarian reasons one might wish to rid a man of the werewolf's disease, but she was fairly sure that thought barely crossed her lover's mind.

"I can control many things, Ileana," Dracula told her, "but some wolves are stubborn. I usually kill them, but wouldn't it be better to have a method to turn them back? It would be so much easier to break them again as humans, turn them, and have truly faithful dogs."

"Surely everything can be broken," she insisted, her tone flat. She wasn't particularly impressed with his reasons for wanting to explore sure an academic pursuit: power.

"Some things are more stubborn than others," he told her softly, "and I don't always have the patience to take my time with them."

"Right," she said quickly, hoping to redirect the conversation elsewhere. She placed her head on his bare chest, a hand resting nearby. "Continue with the Starks… I'm sorry I interrupted."

"Hmm," he grunted, "the Starks… Yes, well, Henry grew up in his father's shadows, and he developed his own taste for innovation. However, I knew he would take on some of his father's secret interests, and one of them included the vaccination for a werewolf cure. There have been several werewolf sightings in America, some in England… There they have no one to control them, and they run rampant until some human gets lucky enough to kill them."

"Perhaps you should go over and lead them," Ileana muttered, but she fell silent when he gave her a sharp pinch.

"Stark sent me a letter a month ago informing me he has come up with what he thinks will be an appropriate start to a vaccine," he carried on. "He doesn't believe it is perfect, but he thinks it will be a good point to start from, and is willing to hand it over to me for a small fortune, which I have sent him already."

Apparently money wasn't much of an issue, particularly if he was willing to hand it out before he even knew if this Stark fellow had a success on his hands.

"Henry is in England for the end of the summer," Dracula told her, "and I'd like for you to go collect the recipe for me."

Ileana stilled for a moment, and then looked up at him, "I'm sorry?"

Her lover grinned at her, and then leaned up to give her a quick peck on the lips, "I am sending you to England to meet with Stark. You'll be making the cure, and I'd like you both to put your heads together so we can have as much success as possible."

"I… I don't understand," Ileana stammered. "Will someone come with me?"

"No, no, I think you will go by yourself," her lover explained as she sat up. "You've learned your lesson. You've learned to be loyal, Ileana, and I trust you will return to me because you know the consequences if you don't."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing; one week after she was freed and already he was sending her away to England, of all places, to fetch the beginnings of her next assignment. He must have had enough faith in the remnants of her punishment to let her go alone.

"I… I don't really know what to say," she told him, her feelings a strange mix of excitement, nerves, fear, and anticipation all in that very moment. "I suppose… Thank you!"

He chuckled as she leaned to kiss him, her hands cupping his face as she lavished him with attention. It was really the only way she could express her gratitude without weeping.

"There is," he mumbled against her lips, "one thing you must give him in return."

Her eyebrows shot up, and he pushed some hair out of her face, "Stark would like to take a vial of vampire's blood for his collection. You will let him collect what he needs."

She frowned, "But… we don't really… bleed-"

"Feed before you see him, and when he sticks his transfusion tubes in, he will get something," Dracula explained, rolling his eyes a little and brushing it off with a wave of his hand, "even if it is only a bit of human blood."

She nodded, her muscles twitching as her eyes darted around her room; she wanted to start packing right this second and be on her way.

"You will leave tomorrow evening," Dracula told her as he gripped her neck, forcing her attention back to him. "I've already mapped out a route for you to fly that should take you a week to reach England if you travel by night and stop only when necessary. No departures into Rome or Paris, my love."

"That barely crossed my mind," she admitted with a shrug. "I want to do this. I… Thank you. I don't know how to… properly…"

It was difficult to form proper sentences amidst all her excitement. She could barely think straight with this opportunity looming ahead of her in the very near future, let alone get intelligent, coherent sentences out.

"You can thank me," he insisted, "for the rest of tonight, and until you leave tomorrow evening…"

Ileana giggled as he dragged her down into another kiss, and then rolled her over, flesh on flesh, to extract her thanks for the remainder of their time together.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Another update? Within two weeks? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS? So yesss. I'm kind of in the mood for this story lately, and it got the creative juices going. **

**Now, before anyone asks about this 'Stark' character – yes, it is a (fictional) relation of Tony Stark, aka Iron Man from the Marvels universe. Hai. I like comics other than Batman. I have always liked crossing the Van Helsing universe with others ones. I did so years ago with a VH/Harry Potter crossover, but I'm veering away from it and into other interests. Therefore, we've got a little Stark action happening. Don't know who he is? Not a big deal. We won't see heavy crossover or intense canon things in this story, as I'm still a Marvel noob. **

**I originally thought that Van Helsing's storyline took place around 1900, only to discover today that it's 1887. Therefore, I've tried to make all the 'advances' reflect that. I like trying to be accurate with history and whatnot, though I won't go hardcore because there is WAY. TOO. MUCH. out there to know about what's happening in the world. Big events (wars and such) will be referenced. **

**I am also a little skeptical about this move that Dracula's pulling on Ileana… I basically see it as another way to manipulate her, and she's at the level of one of his brides when he sends them out to do errands. Not sure how I feel about it at the moment. **

**I'm looking forward to updates. This might just be around the time a certain Doctor Jekyll has caught the attention of the Knights of the Holy Order. Will we see Van Helsing in London during Ileana's trip? We'll see… **

**Thank you, as always, for the lovely reviews and support!**


	38. Henry Stark's London Town

_The grass was so green against my new clothes,  
And I did cartwheels in your honor, dancing on tiptoes  
My own secret ceremonials before the service began,  
In the graveyard, doing handstands._

_Only if for a Night – Florence and the Machine _

* * *

Ileana couldn't believe her luck. Most people would never get outside their own town, let alone their country, and here she was arriving in London after having flown through Europe. Dracula hadn't gone back on his word, and once he showed her the flight plans and given her further instructions about what to do when she arrived in Britain, she was given the freedom to leave at her discretion.

With a small bag packed, Ileana departed from Castle Frankenstein the following evening, and for some time she kept glancing over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. Although Dracula seemed to have faith in her, it was difficult to comprehend that he was sending her out into Europe without an escort. However, once she was securely in the territories of Austria-Hungary, it was fairly clear that he had no intention of sending a bride out to monitor her activities. This task was hers and hers alone, and for the first time in a very long time, she could do it by herself with full confidence from her lover.

He had warned her not to stop in any of the large historical cities along the way, and Ileana knew that he would time the duration of her trip. There were times when he had gone out into Europe over the course of their relationship, and she knew Dracula had exact knowledge about how long it took to fly to different nations. Naturally, he was a more powerful vampire, which meant he could fly faster, but she was sure he took that into account.

His route was as followers: up through the Hungarian portion of the Empire, followed by a brief dip into strictly Austrian territory, and then across through Germany, followed closely by northern France. From there, she would cross the Channel over the course of one night, and then find a ground transport at the docks to take her to London. Dracula, of course, provided her with the funds to accomplish the task, along with hotel fares where she would rest during the days.

She knew she wasn't allowed to make any stops that weren't for sleeping the day away, but it was incredibly difficult to ignore some of the larger cities. Occasionally, when she knew she was safe from the prying eyes of onlookers, Ileana would perch on a tall building of monument, careful to conceal herself in the shadows, simply to watch the busy downtown lives of the European elite. Stage coaches, electric lights, exquisite clothing, and couples laughing happily as they strolled the streets… It was enough to bring her into a jealous stupor. To think back to her home, that remote castle in an insignificant village… Well, it was awful.

She knew she would return, and she would crawl into Dracula's arms because she did love him, and because he would end her comfortable existence if she did anything otherwise. However, as she soared across Europe and lingered in cities that commanded her attention, she knew she was going to be miserable when she finally returned to Castle Frankenstein. Ileana wondered if she performed well enough on this task, Dracula might indulge her occasionally and take her to some of these wonderful places. Their trip to Budapest, although fraught with lies and secrecy, was actually quite nice, and she hoped that one day they could do it again simply for the sake of seeing a new city. Dracula must have seen all of Europe by now, but Ileana was young in her immortality, and there was still so much more for her to experience.

Paris was especially hard to leave. She arrived there in good time, exhausted yet alert to her surroundings. She hovered just out of sight above the city and used her keen eyesight to take in the beauty of the downtown core. Naturally, it wasn't all splendor and glorious kingdoms to behold; there was extreme poverty across Europe that rivaled even the loveliest of opera houses and exquisite gardens. She spied on hardworking men and women almost as much as she did on the noble class, and she wasn't particularly sure what to make of it. As a vampire, she knew she would have to distance herself from the human race slowly; good times and bad were bound to fall on them in cycles, and while things may have seemed bleak now, she was sure there was still a light in their future.

Their future… What a depressing thought. It was no longer her future; Ileana had a different future than the rest of the people scattered about below her. In fifty years, half of the people she had seen would be dead or dying from old age, and yet she would remain the same, locked in her own world with Dracula, his brides, and potentially their children.

No, she couldn't let herself sink into those thoughts. There was so much splendour out there, so much more for her to see, and as she flew the length of the English Channel in the dead of night, nothing but starlight to guide her, she knew that this trip would be the start of something meaningful. She could do this, and she could do more tasks like this; Dracula would see her worth one day, a worth that wasn't simply measured in her ability to draw and place anatomy.

She landed on the docks initially, changing herself back into a normal human once more. However, she couldn't wander around in the robes she was accustomed to back in Transylvania, and was quickly forced to change into English attire behind a small shed. It was a fashionable green dress Dracula had ordered for her as a surprise, and she thought it looked quite fetching off with its fitted bodice and sleeves. From there, she moved through the docks, which were currently filled with scattered young folk debarking from their ships. Ileana offered to pay a driver handsomely to bring her all the way to London; she paid half when he accepted, and promised him that double the amount. Dracula gave her as much as she needed for some travels and her fare at the inn, but so far she hadn't paid for any of her hostels, preferring rather to sneak out in the night.

Now, where her lover had come up with such copious amounts of English money remained a mystery, but she wasn't about to bother him about it. If he had the money for her to spend, she was certainly going to spend every ounce of it before she left. When else would she have this opportunity to spend his money without him physically present? Her driver was quite pleasant, with expensive looking horses and a clean outfit. When he asked where she would like to stay, Ileana had no qualms with asking for something modern and expensive.

"Well," he had started, scratching at the back of his head while she threw her small bag in the back of the carriage, "the Langham's where I take a lot of the wealthier folk… Can't get more expensive than that!"

"Excellent," she had cooed, smiling as she slipped into the rear of the carriage and shutting the door behind.

That was the extent of their discussion, and she spent the remainder of her trip admiring the countryside of a nation she hadn't seen since she was a very young girl. It took them nearly six hours to arrive in the capital of the British Empire, and Ileana tipped the man almost three times the promised rate once he had unloaded her belongings – all one bag. London itself was a mess of people, horses, dogs, cats, and carriages, and the smells spoke to her in a way that nothing else could. Having only fed sparingly on her journey, she was eager to get out and enjoy the underbelly of the city. Unfortunately, it was quite early in the morning when she finally made it to her designated hotel, and since the sun was still rising early in the late summer, it made more sense to sleep for the day.

The Langham was quite established, and Ileana felt very posh indeed when she strolled in with her fancy dress, her small luggage, and confident stride. There was a room available, and she paid for it immediately, sure to show off her large coin purse to the attendant so that he would ensure she was given the best services possible. With her key in hand, she smiled a dashing smile and turned back, searching the floor for the stairwell.

"Wait," the attendant called, a little groggy still. He had been asleep behind the desk when she initially strolled up. "Why don't you take the lift?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you're in for a real treat, Miss," the man insisted as he smoothed down the front of his upscale uniform. He gestured toward a small door at the side of the grand main lobby, and Ileana immediately picked up on the sound of machinery and gears moving. "The Langham is the first and only hotel in England to have a hydraulic lift."

She squinted at the door, curious as to what lay behind it, and then watched the man rip the doors open and ask her to step inside. Ileana wasn't concerned for her life, as it wasn't as though he or the machine could kill her, and she moved with a great sense of inquisitiveness that she had always possessed. Once in and at the back of the very small room, she pressed herself against the wall as the attendant stepped inside and shut the doors behind him. There was a very dim light on the ceiling that kept the room illuminated, and she watched with avid fascination as he began pumping a long shaft that stuck out from the wall. Suddenly, the room shook, and Ileana feigned a loss of balance by clutching at the wall.

"Nothing to worry about, Miss!" the attendant told her as the room buckled. Ileana immediately felt a shift in gravity, and her eyes widened when she realized they were moving _up_. This was… incredible.

Amazing! The world was filled with such advances, such wonder, and Ileana was stuck in some ancient castle with an ancient man, condemned to draw anatomy or brew potions for the rest of her days.

"This is… incredible," Ileana told him, laughing a little when he managed to get the room to stop. "You called this a… hydraulic lift?"

"Yes, yes indeed," the man replied, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead when he finally stopped and set about pushing the doors open. She noticed he blinked a little too hard when he spoke. "First of its kind… Really popular. Your room is the last door on the left. There are two water closets for your convenience nearby, and a bathroom three doors down from your room."

"Amazing," Ileana breathed as she stepped forward, and quickly lifted her leg when he told her to mind her step. Yes, she had to haul herself up to get out, but she was sure someone would one day figure out how to get the lift to stop perfectly in line with the floors of the building. Genius – absolute genius.

The attendant smiled awkwardly as he struggled with getting the doors closed for a second time, and Ileana continued to watch until she could hear the lift arrive back at the ground floor. It would have been a little faster to take the staircase, as she was only two floors up, but it was still interesting, and she had probably made the man's night. Her smile was a permanent fixture as she marched down the dark corridor, and she paused only once to take stock of how many people were situated around her. Of all the rooms, she could detect about fifteen hearts beating, which meant the floor was full with multiple people in each room. It felt good to have this bit of anonymity; she wouldn't have to interact with them to feel like she was part of something bigger.

Tomorrow she would feed, she decided as she unlocked the door to her room and stepped in. She couldn't pluck anyone out from hotel, either staff or visitor, as she did not want to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. Besides, she was hungry enough to become a little careless, and even a simple human could trace a blood trail back to her if they looked hard enough. So, as she unpacked her few dresses in the wardrobe and changed into a night dress, she made plans to take a detour down some impoverish district before her meeting with Stark. It was there she would find her victim, her sustenance, and that was the blood Stark would draw in return for his little potion.

Before Ileana retired completely, her thick hair drawn up in a bun and a white night dress down to the floor, she made sure the very thick curtains were completely drawn. She locked the door and set a stool in front of it, and eyed the window warily for some time from her small bed. There were two layers of curtains, and she assumed it was for travelers who, like herself, arrived by ship or carriage in the dead of night after a long journey and really needed the sleep. However, she also recalled it rarely being sunny in England beyond the span of an hour or so, which meant she had nothing to fear. With that realization in mind, Ileana buried herself between the thin bedcover and shut her eyes; she didn't need to sleep, but it felt right to do so. It felt normal.

She forced herself to sleep the entire day, waking several times and groaning when she realized it wasn't time to rise yet. The vampire was eager to meet Stark, eager to engage an intellectual in a scientific discussion who wasn't some fraud in Romania. When it was finally an acceptable time to get up, Ileana sprang from beneath the sheets and twirled around the room. She still had roughly three hours to go before she was required to meet Stark at his London residence, but she figured it would give her time to feed and let it settle before she arrived.

So, she dressed in another frock typical of English fashion. Dracula seemed to have a knack for purchasing foreign garments whenever he left home, and somehow they always ended up as presents for Ileana. It wasn't that it bothered her, but she had a sinking suspicion that the other women in his life weren't treated to such gifts, and a part of her felt uncomfortable for taking that from them. However, the other part, that small girlish side to her that seldom surfaced, was excited to have a few pretty dresses to her name. This one required her to lace herself in to the bodice, but it was a brilliant blue that complimented her skin tone and had a wide skirt to enhance some sort of slenderness to her hips. If she could have seen her reflection in the dusty mirror hanging near the front door, she would have stood to admire herself. Apparently, hats were also in fashion, and after she managed to get her hair into some sort of basic updo, she situated the hat and pulled a small bit of lace over her face.

Now, it would have been impractical for her to want to dress like this all the time. The skirt was thick and cumbersome, the lace obscured her vision slightly, and the hat pinched at odd places. It wasn't a suitable garment for working in any kind of laboratory setting, which was why she knew that once she returned home to Transylvania, she would forgo fashion for comfort and practicality. Therefore, she ought to enjoy it while she could now.

Ileana wrenched the curtains back to gaze out at the busy streets below through her open window; she had thought it was busy when she arrived in the wee hours of the morning, but apparently London did not truly come to life until the late afternoon. As predicted, gray clouds hung across the city's landscape, though she could feel the heat of a morning sun radiating off the nearby buildings. Luckily she had slept soundly. As Ileana studied the city from her peak, she used her heightened sense of smell to detect the poverty line; that was where she needed to be. Ileana had to feed in a place where they wouldn't miss the ones she plucked out of obscurity.

London seemed to give her a sense of anonymity, one that she had never anticipated. A few people gave her looks when she walked by, but she assumed it was because of her splash of colour in the dreary setting. Otherwise, most rushed about their daily lives as though there was no one else in this world, and Ileana almost found it endearing. It was actually interesting to see people focused on themselves rather than on some overlord who held their lives in his hand. Was this the wave of the future? Would the common man step out into his own? Ileana was skeptical that this sort of determinism reached far beyond London, and the country folk were probably no different than the villagers who lived outside her castle. As much as this world changed with its hydraulic lifts and cures for the damages caused by a wolf's bite, so much of it would stay the same.

She faced far less hassle than she anticipated on the poorer streets of central London; her mind had concocted some grandiose image of men following her into an alley with dark intentions, and the righteous vampire would dismember them and remove them from society. However, after a full hour had passed, Ileana realized this was more of a fantasy than anything. Men drifted about, but only one had stopped to ask if she was lost, and she couldn't see any sort of foul intention behind his words. She surely stood out here, but it was just then that she spotted a trio of well-dressed women exiting an orphanage, and she realized she must have looked like some do-gooding socialite here to give charity.

Hmm. She could make that angle work, if necessary.

Eventually, Ileana found herself on a small street. It was narrow and the stones were uneven, but she decided that this was the poorest place she had found thus far. She knew there were most likely worse off places if she searched hard enough, but at this point the light was slowly fading, the clouds darkening, and she did not want to be late for Stark.

"Ma'am… You wouldn't happen to have a spare coin on you?"

Ileana paused, and then slowly turned to face the small female lurking in the doorway of a building. The stench coming off of her was horrendous, and Ileana did not need to look hard to spot the black under her fingernails, the circles under her eyes. She couldn't have been much older than Ileana, but there was a weathered look to her face, like the skin was too worn.

"Do you live here?" Ileana asked as she stalked toward the woman.

She gestured back to the building behind her, an eyebrow quirked, and the woman nodded. What a terrible shame. Ileana had never had much finery until Dracula walked into her life, but she had lived in considerable comfort all the same. No one ought to live here… No woman should suffer this sort of societal degradation while Ileana stayed easily in one of the city's best hotels.

The woman coughed noisily as Ileana approached, and she detected blood on her hands: sick and in poverty. It must have been a common sight in this city, and Ileana realized that she could provide this woman with the small mercy of death. There was no one around, no lurking faces in the curtained windows above, and Ileana could drain her quickly on her stoop. When she was finished, she could bring the body inside and make it look as though the sickness had finally taken her. It would be a small act of kindness, and it was bound to slack her bloodlust.

However, before she could say another word, the door opened just a crack behind the woman, and a small face poked out. If Ileana still needed to breathe, the air would have hitched in her throat; it was the splitting image of her Madalina. Small, blonde, innocent.

"Mama," the girl whispered, "can I have a sweet?"

"Not until dinner," the woman croaked, and the girl disappeared back inside, her face disappointed. Ileana blinked away her sadness hastily.

"Please-"

She allowed her coin purse to slide off her wrist at the woman's feet, and then turned away. If she needed more funds, she was sure Stark might have some spare coins somewhere for her to borrow. It had landed noisily, clearly full, and she turned back to see the woman staring at it as though it was infected with something.

"See a doctor," Ileana told her sharply, "and buy your girl better clothing."

The woman said nothing, but she quickly gathered up the coins and slipped inside, no doubt worried someone would see her with that vast amount of coinage on her person. Meanwhile, Ileana found a drifter and drained him to nothing four streets over, casually discarding of the carcass in a gutter.

Licking her fingers clean, her gloves tucked neatly under her arm, Ileana decided she could go to Stark's early at this point. She moved stealthily through side streets and alleys, stopping only once when a man pulled a gun on her. She had come round a corner sharply, and must have startled the tall fellow. Broad-shouldered, dark brown hair that waved down his neck, and a mask covering his mouth and nose, a brimmed had to cover his eyes. Any normal woman ought to have panicked, but Ileana simply stared at him, confused as to what his intentions were; did he plan to rob her?

"You walk softly," he told her. "These streets aren't safe, Miss."

"I'll be fine," Ileana said cautiously, nodding down to his pistol, "but perhaps you should lower your weapon and let me pass."

Because if he didn't, _he_ wasn't going to be fine. He glanced down at the gun, and then lowered his arm, stepping to the side to let her through.

"There's something out here to tonight," he growled as she moved passed him. "Don't stay out long after dark."

"Monsters in the night?" she laughed airily, but he merely stared back in return. She dipped her head a little, gathered up her skirts like any normal woman would, and hurried along the corridor of houses. When she came to the end, she looked back, but he had vanished. That was a feat in itself, considering she had heightened senses, and she suddenly wondered if she had just met another sort of supernatural creature.

Once she found herself back on the main streets, surrounded by the noise of night life and horses, she realized she had left Stark's address in her coin purse. No matter; she had it memorized after a week of staring at that small sheet of parchment. North London. Second storey of a townhouse. Ask for Henry at the front door.

Unfortunately, London was much larger than she anticipated, and the northern portion of it was almost too overwhelming for her. She was supposed to arrive at Stark's residence at seven that evening, and didn't actually find it until sometime well after eight. It certainly wasn't a good way to start, and as she stared up the large staircase that led to a rather expensive looking townhouse, she hoped he would not judge her scientific merit based on her tardiness.

Ileana nearly flew up the steps, not caring who saw her move with her vampiric speed, but came to an abrupt halt when she saw an envelope tacked to the front door. It had her name on it, and she ripped it off, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching for some sort of reaction. There was some level of discomfort as she dragged a letter from within, tossing the envelope aside. Her eyes skimmed it quickly, and she arched an eyebrow. Apparently, Stark had decided to spend the night in his lab, and had invited her to join him in a place where he assumed they would both feel more comfortable. For some reason, she hesitated. Now, there was no need for her to worry, and yet she did. This was a man who had claimed to cure lycanthropy; if he could master one supernatural beast, what was to say he couldn't tackle her?

Unfortunately, the location of the lab was down by the shipping docks, which meant she had to trek back across town. He had provided her with extensive directions at the bottom of his handwritten letter, and while she could have easily followed them through London's dark streets, Ileana opted to use her new gifts to get there a little faster. She darted down the stairs and hurried into an alleyway across the street, and in moments she was in the air, speeding away from the posh neighbourhood and into the cloudy sky. She wrinkled her nose as a fresh dusting of rainwater trickled across her skin, and she was sure that her dress would be spoiled when she arrived at her desired location.

The docks were brimming with people of all kinds, and Ileana had to circle the area several times before she could locate a spot that would have given her adequate cover. Eventually, she found a dark corner between a lower and higher building in which she could change from vampire beast to human. Once she did so, she slipped down the steep tilt of the rusted roof and fell nimbly to her feet. Her dress, as predicted, was damp, but not as bad as she had anticipated. She took a moment to dust off the dirt from the roof, wring out the skirt, and then readjust her hat. She didn't need to impress Stark visually, but she still wanted to look presentable enough.

Now, the letter dictated that she was to find the only large building made entirely out of brick, not wood, and knock thrice at the steel door on the west side. Honestly, these directions… She rolled her eyes a little as she hurried through the swarms of smelly sailors and travelers, ignoring the few that tried to engage her in conversation. She was already incredibly late, and she didn't need any further hindrance.

The only brick building she could locate was at the far end of the docks, and she scanned the entire area twice to be certain. She eventually located the steel door, and knocked the required amount of times, thinking this all very absurd. However, if she had taken anything from Dracula's stories of the man, he was something of an absurd character anyway; she ought to be prepared for anything.

A small slit in the door opened at eyelevel, and Ileana flinched back.

"Password?"

She frowned at the American accent that filtered through the small slit, and then leaned forward in an attempt to see him, "Stark?"

"Password."

"Oh, honestly-"

"Password."

She sighed noisily and then retrieved his letter, scanning it several times until she found a word that wasn't specifically labeled as a password, but had no relation to the rest of the document.

"Philadelphia," Ileana said clearly, eyebrows shooting up as the slit slammed closed.

There was a bit of rustling about somewhere inside, and Ileana waited with her hands on her hips. Really, she didn't have any right to be uppity with anyone, but who else was going to pay this specific warehouse a visit at this time of night?

The steel door finally slid to the side, granting her just enough space to fit through. Once inside the warehouse, the attendant shut the door quickly, and Ileana turned back with the expectation of greeting Henry Stark. However, the nearby candlelight illuminated a coloured man, and for a moment she was at a loss for words. She hadn't actually… seen a coloured man before, and never in such an expensive looking suit.

"Frederick Wilson, ma'am," he greeted, tipping his cap a little and producing what she assumed he thought to be a friendly smile; however, it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry about the password, but we have to be careful in this day and age."

"O-Of course," Ileana said quickly, nodding her head a few times. "You can call me Ileana, if you'd like."

"Mr. Stark is waiting down in the lab," Wilson continued.

He gestured toward an iron railing, and Ileana noted the stairwell that sunk down into the floor. She assumed this was a custom-built warehouse, or one that had been refurbished to Stark's specifications. It certainly didn't have the damp quality that she would have expected. Wilson took a seat on a small chair in front of the door, and she watched him light a pipe; clearly there was nothing left to say between them. She then turned and hurried down the staircase, her skirt tight in her hand as she descended down almost two levels beneath the Earth.

Ileana heard the lab long before she saw it, but when she finally stepped into a well-lit expansive room, her jaw actually fell open. There was more machinery in here than she had ever seen in her entire life. A quick sweep with her eyes found her recognizing maybe three or four pieces of equipment, and the rest were a total mystery to her. An excitement welled up within her, one greater than she had ever felt thus far, and she wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into the fray and test every single piece of equipment in front of her.

However, she knew she had an assignment. She knew there was a purpose to her being here, and instead she contained herself, seeking out the man she was supposed to meet instead. Before she spotted Henry, she spied a woman hunched over several test tubes: focused, blonde, petite. Ileana stepped forward, forcing the heels of her shoe to echo a little more than necessary, and the woman quickly glanced up at the intrusion. However, instead of a panic, she smiled warmly, and then poked at something by her feet. Moments later, a man stood up with a mask covering his face, dressed in a white lab coat that would have made her uncle proud.

He pulled the mask off, tossing it on a nearby table, and then beamed, "Ileana! I'm so glad you finally made it… Sorry about the sudden change in address…"

"Oh, it isn't a problem," Ileana remarked, trying her best to remain cool and superior. She was, after all, the only immortal in this room. "I apologize for my tardiness."

"You're late?" Stark inquired. He ran a hand through his messy black hair as he glanced at a large clock nearby, and then shrugged, "Ah, so you are! I hadn't even noticed."

How did one notice anything with all these toys scattered around? Ileana clasped her hands together behind her back to keep from touching anything prematurely.

"This is my assistant, Claudine," he introduced, gesturing to the woman. Ileana smiled slightly, and the woman dipped her head. "She's French."

"Ah."

"Give us some time, would you?" he said to the blonde. They then exchanged a brief kiss, a peck, and the woman disappeared through a door somewhere near the far right corner of the lab. "Guessing you met Wilson too, huh? He's a real peach."

She could detect a very faint English accent, but it seemed quite watered down and battered by whatever sort of dialect they had in America. This was also the first time she had ever spoken to an American – as far as she could remember, anyway – and Ileana quickly decided they sounded like less educated Englishmen.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he asked as he produced a small stool. He placed it next to a table, and then patted it lightly, "We can get the formalities over with… Your husband told you what I wanted for payment?"

"He isn't my husband," Ileana remarked briskly, watching him as he darted around to several other tables. He was a bit of a mess; there were jars of substances, test tubes of various colours, and a variety of hand tools littered across almost every table without a semblance of order. "You require vampire blood."

"Intellectual curiosity," he told her. "Could you remove your glove and roll up your sleeve? Either arm is fine…"

She slipped off her left glove and placed it on the table, and then rolled up her tight sleeve as far as it would go. He seemed so keen, so eager to get started; she might have worn a mask of aloofness, but if she had a heart, it would have been beating just as fast as his was right now.

"Excellent," he muttered under his breath. As he wrapped a piece of rope tightly around her forearm, Ileana studied him quickly: tall, lean, face covered with short stubble. He was handsome, to be sure, and there was no wonder that his female assistant allowed him to kiss her. Perhaps their relationship was similar to that of hers and Dracula's, but hopefully without the heartache and death.

"Have you met many vampires?" she asked when he produced a long, thin piece of plastic tubing.

"Actually, you're the second," he replied as he pulled a smaller stool over with his foot. He then sat down in front of her, grabbed a scalpel, and cut a gash into her arm. His dark eyes flickered up as though to gauge her reaction, but she simply stared back down at him.

"It will take a lot more than that to hurt me," Ileana told him quietly, though she did wince a little at the sensation of the tubing being pushed into her arm. It wasn't that it really hurt, but it certainly didn't feel comfortable. She watched him place his thumb over the wound, and then insert the other end of the tube into a large plastic bowl. Was she meant to fill the entire thing?

Moments later, a steady stream of red liquid poured through the tube, and her ears strained to listen to it drip out into the bowl.

"I've got to say this up front," Stark said suddenly. "I was really excited to meet. I am still. It's… It's a real honour to be sitting with you."

She marveled at his open expression of enthusiasm, and shrugged, "Well, I'm sure when you meet more vampires, the novelty will fade."

"Oh," he said quickly, "no, no, no. I'm excited to meet _you_… Ileana Frankenstein. I've read your uncle's books extensively."

She blinked back her surprise; that wasn't what she had been expecting at all. Ileana licked her lips, "You read his books?"

"All three of them," he told her proudly, his eyes heady with excitement. "I mean, they were quick reads… nothing too weighty, but they were ground-breaking. His theories on vivisection, body reconstruction, the… the ability to bring something back to life once it has already died…. It was so refreshing. Claudine actually mailed them to me several years ago."

"Is she a scientist?" Ileana inquired, glancing over her shoulder as though she expected the woman to still be standing in the corner where she was last seen.

Stark nodded, adjusting himself into a slightly more comfortable position, "Works for the French government… I like to hire her out contractually. Technically she isn't a government employee, so they can't really put up a fuss when I steal her for a few weeks while I'm here."

"Why's that?"

"Well, women in government push papers and take dictation," Stark told her seriously. "People don't seem to understand that intelligence isn't dependant on a… well, a certain male appendage."

Ileana snorted despite her attempt to remain cool, which made Stark grin, "Their loss is my gain. One day she might get recognition for her work… For now, she gets to work with me. This isn't hurting you, is it?"

"Sorry?" Ileana said, mostly because she was still thinking about the fact that a man appreciated female scientists. She glanced down at her arm and then shook her head, "No, no, it's fine."

"Good," he told her, leaning closer to examine the tubing. "I'm interested in seeing if there're any noticeable differences in the blood types…"

She pursed her lips, and immediately felt terrible for squashing his excitement, but she suddenly felt as though she couldn't let him waste his time on this. They were too alike.

"It's not vampire blood," Ileana told him softly. He glanced up and she shook her head, "We don't really have blood… The blood we feed on is stored, and it depletes just as any other nutrition does. I don't… quite know why."

She expected him to yank the tube out and commence on some sort of rant about Dracula tricking him, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he looked down at the bowl at his feet, and then back to her.

"If it's all the same to you," he started, "I'd like to keep going… I'm sure I can find some differences. After all, if it's like our nutrition, you must digest it somehow."

Ileana blinked, and then slouched a little in her chair as she sunk into thought, "That… makes sense."

"Besides, if there're no changes, then my theory is proven incorrect," Stark continued, "but that's what science is all about… Sometimes we're right, and sometimes we're horribly wrong. That's where the fun is, don't you think?"

"Yes," Ileana breathed.

The utter joy she felt at finding a like soul, a kindred spirit, was so overwhelming that she thought she might weep. Instead, she let her features soften, and she smiled kindly at him when their eyes met once more.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**You all know by now how sorry I am for the length between updates for this story, but I'm sure you're also aware it's my favourite. I put about five of my unfinished stories on hiatus recently, and yet this one remains active – I adore it, and I've worked out the basics of three sequels. So. We'll be working on this sucker for a long time. **

**As I was writing this chapter, I had a pretty big worry that Ileana was turning into a Mary-Sue. I know she's not **_**really**_**, but I think it's all the perfections and abilities that vampires have that got me stuck in that train of thought. Hence the appearance of Claudine – Ileana isn't the only secret female scientist working out there, which was an exciting realization to both of us. If Ileana ever does start to drift into the Mary-Sue territory, please speak up. I think it's easy to do with female vampire characters, and I don't want it to happen to her.  
**

**Frederick Wilson is my fictional relative (not quite sure how far back) of Sam Wilson, who becomes the Falcon in the Marvel universe, and works alongside Captain America. Fun tidbit for people who are interested in my nerdy side. **

**I'm currently on vacation, and my plan was to update all my active stories once. This was fourth in line, and I've got one more to go. I liked the way this chapter felt, and Ileana and Stark make me happy in their dorky interactions, so I'm pumped to work on the next chapter. **

**Much love to all my readers, reviewers, adders to lists, and everything else. I really, really appreciate it!**

**PS: Longest chapter for this story thus far. Exciting!**


	39. Rabid Nature

_But you came over me like some holy rite,  
And although I was burning,  
You're the only light  
Only if for a night_

Only if for a Night – Florence + the Machine

* * *

"So they just… disappear back into your head, do they?"

Ileana sighed through her nostrils; the gesture was unnecessary, as she had no requirement to breathe much anymore, but it was a sign of impatience that she knew Stark would pick up on. While they waited for her blood to fill the rather large bowl he had set aside for her, she briefly permitted the man to inspect her teeth. They were where his curiosity went first, claiming that his father had detailed drawings of Dracula's fangs when they were unsheathed, and he was eager to see them for himself. So, there she was, head back, mouth open, and lips curled to show off her incisors. Thus far, Stark had an annoyingly endearing habit of asking her questions when she lacked the capability to actually respond, but somehow they managed.

She nudged him away with her free hand, and he stepped aside willingly, staring down at her through a pair of half-moon glasses.

"I haven't ever given them much thought, actually," Ileana remarked casually. "It's something that comes naturally now… Like breathing or blinking."

"May I see them one last time?" Stark inquired, his heart racing as he leaned in. "I think this is probably one of the highlights of my career…"

"That's a sorry career then, Mr. Stark," she chuckled. However, despite her annoyance with it, Ileana still leaned back and thought of feeding, and moments later her fangs made themselves noticeable. She flinched slightly when he poked one with the tip of his finger, and she hastily shut her mouth when a tiny dot of blood appeared as a result.

"Marvelous," Stark muttered. He settled back on his stool and put himself at a safe distance from her, his eyes fixated on his finger, "The legends are true then."

"Legends?"

"Of vampires, werewolves… All the creatures that make the bumps at night," he mused as he looked up at her sharply. "I know your stay must be shortened, but perhaps you could ask your husband-"

"He isn't-"

"_Dracula_," he offered quickly in an attempt to make up for his repeated mistake. "Perhaps you could ask Dracula if you could come visit me back home… I think you'd really like America."

"Perhaps."

Although the offer was innocent, she knew Dracula would never give her permission to cross the oceans without him. After all, the only reason she was allowed to cross Europe by herself – a continent that seemed so small when one hand wings – was because he needed something from Stark.

"Or perhaps I could come for a visit?" he finished pleasantly. Ileana's eyebrows shot up as he fiddled with the plastic tube, turning it upward and forcing a kink into it. "I would love to really understand your kind… What works and how it does…" She wrinkled her nose as he tugged the other end of the tube from her arm, and then placed his thumb over the open wound. "I have always been interested in seeing where Dracula lives."

"Do not come to the castle," Ileana told him, placing her gloved hand atop his and gently prying it from her bare arm, "for I fear you will not be permitted to leave should you see how we truly live."

He frowned, and for a moment she saw a flicker of fear in his eye. However, he was quickly distracted by the sight of Ileana's skin sewing back together, and before she could cover it with her sleeve again, Stark let out a brilliant little chuckle and clapped his hands together.

"You truly are a marvelous being, Ileana Frankenstein," he told her. She would have blushed had she the capacity to do so, and instead offered a demure smile as she rolled her sleeve back down and slipped her hand into her discarded glove. "I wish we had more time together."

She smiled up at him, her hands resting comfortably now on her lap, and she realized that she was pleased he hadn't said any of this as a foolish romantic attempt. There was no sexual charisma firing back between them, nor did he brush up against her unnecessarily as he worked. Instead, he remained friendly yet clinical, never once leaning forward in an attempt to touch or kiss her inappropriately. It was actually refreshing; Dracula kept her for her intelligence, but it seemed Stark simply appreciated her.

Her eyes followed him as he picked up the bowl, moving with such precision as to not spill any of the contents, and then sauntered after him toward a cluttered desk across the room.

"What will you do with the blood?" she inquired. She knew what he wanted it for intellectual purposes, but she couldn't imagine what might spark such a curiosity.

"I'd like to compare it to other blood samples," he explained as he gestured for her to join him. "I'll have a look at them under the microscope to see if there are any abnormalities associated with yours."

"But it isn't my blood," Ileana told him. She placed her hands on the metallic surface, eyebrows knitting together as she watched him produce a syringe from the clutter of items and then poke it in the blood bowl. "Won't it be pointless?"

"Well, no," he said frankly as he withdrew a small sample slowly. "You see, it was in your system, and therefore I think I will see differences… I'd like to compare it to a human sample and an animal sample."

"Animal?"

"I don't mean it as any offense," he said quickly, shooting her a look as he dragged a large microscope toward him, "but I'd like a broad range of comparisons. I currently have samples of the three blood types, and then some from sheep and lizard that I'd like to use."

"Ah."

It seemed there was so much more in the scientific community that Ileana had to learn, and although she had usually considered herself quite intelligent, she felt small in front of Stark. He radiated brilliance with his every move, and clearly made use of all the equipment lying around his underground laboratory. If Ileana tried really hard, there were a number of machines that she knew how to use on a very surface-level basis, but she felt embarrassed as he slid the microscope over to her that she hadn't the slightest idea how to work it. She had read about them, naturally, as they were hardly a new invention, but she had never needed one in any of her experiments before.

"Would you like to have a look?" he asked cheerily, eyes narrowed as he deposited a droplet of blood on a small piece of glass, and then slid it into the appropriate holster on the microscope.

"I… Yes," she admitted with a nod, "but I'm not entirely sure how to… use it."

"Oh, dead simple," Stark remarked, which earned him a bit of a smirk. "Turn this knob to bring it into focus… Go on, tell me what you see."

Ileana lifted the lace overlay out of her face, placing it on her hat before she leaned down to the device. It required her to close one eye in order to properly see it, and once she could, she fiddled with the little knob on the side as per Stark's instruction. Moments later, she stared down at a strange sight: red little dots. She had never thought blood was anything more than a liquid base, but it made sense that even a liquid would consist of smaller particles.

"Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not to my eye," Ileana replied as she straightened and readjusted her hat. "However, I cannot say I have much experience in blood… outside of mealtimes, naturally."

He grinned uncomfortably and ran a hand through his hair, "Speaking of which, do you need to… you know, have supper?"

"Already taken care of, not to worry," she assured him, trying to keep her tone as casual as possible in regards to the slightly off-putting subject manner. She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, and then clasped them together behind her back. "Now, I don't mean to be too bold, but now that you have my blood, I thought-"

"_Yes_, the recipe!" Stark beamed, tapping a finger on the metal table before darting off across the lab, Ileana in tow, "It's still in the very early stages, but I think it will only need a few modifications before you use it on larger beasts."

The notion was daunting, that both he and Dracula assumed Ileana had the capabilities to alter such a recipe, but she appreciated the challenge. However, it would require a great deal more research before she could even attempt to add or detract from the recipe, and she briefly wondered if Dracula might be able to provide her with more books.

It seemed the lab was never-ending, and just as Claudine had disappeared out of a door in a dark corner, she and Stark moved through another one at the opposite end of the room. She left a world of bright light and clutter for one that was dark and sparsely furnished. At the far corner, Ileana could hear something snuffing about, and she quickly deduced it was an animal of some kind. In fact, when she took a moment to study the room, pausing in the candlelight, she realized that there were several animals scattered around in cages, their little heartbeats going so incredibly fast that it was almost a distraction.

"It counteracts the rabid nature of infected animals," Stark explained, his voice cutting through all the other noise in the room sharply enough to make her flinch. "From what I've deduced of Dracula's writing on werewolves, and my own research, they are essentially in a rabid state."

"Have you ever seen a werewolf?" Ileana inquired, eyes traveling along the walls of the room until they landed on a thin shelf lined with red test tubes. "I think that is a fairly accurate description of them…"

"I saw one once while I was in New York City," he commented absently. "They're… enormous."

"Dracula likes to let his pets wander the forest around village," Ileana told him as he grabbed one of the vials of red liquid and beckoned for her to join him at one of the cages. "They can be quite the nuisance…"

"I suppose that's why he wants a cure, huh?"

"I…" She trailed off when she realized she hadn't the slightest idea _why_ Dracula might require a cure for lycanthropy. After all, he has supreme control over them, and most of the men turned were people he wanted turned or drifters. It was a curious sentiment. However, Ileana merely nodded when Stark glanced at her, and then forced a small smile, "Yes, that's why."

"Well, it's not really my place to care," he remarked. "Here, hold this."

She frowned as he stuffed the vial in her hand, and then disappeared somewhere behind her, rustling about beneath one of the cages for a moment. Ileana held the tube up and examined the contents, and then arched an eyebrow at Stark when he returned with a rather obnoxiously large brown glove on his left hand.

"What-"

"Best to take precautions," he muttered. "I'm not sure how susceptible I am to the rabid condition, but it's not something I'd like to test."

"Fair enough."

She watched him pry open the top of the cage, and as soon as his gloved hand was close to the bottom, a mouse launched from the dark corner and latched onto him. It was nearly twice the size of any of the mice she had seen scurrying around the palace, and Ileana actually took a disgusted step back when the man pulled it out and gripped it between his fingers.

"Do me a favour," he grunted. "Fetch the syringe from my pocket and fill it halfway with the cure…"

Ileana arched an eyebrow when he gestured down to the deep pocket in his trousers, but he seemed more interested in the rabid mouse than anything, and she was actually able to fish it out without any hint of innuendo. Then, doing as she was told, she stuck the tip of it into the tube, and watched the red liquid shoot up quickly.

"Excellent," Stark praised. "Now put it in our little friend here…"

"Anywhere?" Ileana inquired, wrinkling her nose as the tiny creature thrashed this way and that.

"Aim for the neck," he instructed, pointing at the mouse from a safe distance, "but really I don't think you can go wrong."

She pursed her lips as she brought the needle closer; this was the first time she had actually ever done any sort of experimenting on a live creature, and she wanted to get it right. The sharp point of it wedged into the beast's neck, and it let out a shrill squeal as she injected it with the contents. However, moments later it had finally stilled, and Stark set it down gently in its cage before removing his glove and bending over. Ileana mimicked his stance, eyes fixated on the creature. Then, as if by magic, it decreased in size, and if she focused in on its heart, she noticed that the pace slowed considerably.

"That's… incredible," Ileana breathed as she inched closer, watching the mouse display normal behaviour now rather than aggression. "It even shrunk in size…"

"I made that one of my aims, you see?" Stark mused, snatching the tube from her hand and holding it up in the light. "It will not only reduce the size of the creature, but cure whatever ails the brain of its sickness. It's… genius."

If he didn't say so himself. Ileana smirked, but said nothing to stab at his lack of modesty. After all, this was pure genius work, and he had every right to be proud of it.

"Why are you giving it to us for so little a cost?" she inquired as she gestured back to the other vials, "Are those all for me?"

"The medical market doesn't bode well for me back home," he admitted with a shrug. "If you can get the formula perfect, perhaps you could start to sell it? If you can cure the werewolf, slight alterations may be what's necessary for human sicknesses."

"I suppose…"

She fell silent as she looked around the room, and then wandered back to the other vials, each filled with the cure.

"I have all my old journals on the development stages of it," Stark informed her, to which she nodded. "You'll have my full recipe, plus anything else you may need. You can pick my brains tonight, if you'd like?"

"Pick your… brains?" Ileana chuckled, shooting him a look over her shoulder as he filled the remainder of the vial they had just used on the mouse into the needle. "What does that mean?"

"Questions," he offered as he slid the empty tube into his pocket, and then held out the syringe for her to take. "Anything you like."

She gripped the needle in her gloved hand, and then nibbled on her lower lip, "Would you… Would you ever consider finding a cure for vampirism?"

"Vampirism?" he repeated, scratching at his cheek stubble before giving a sigh. "That would be… difficult. You'd need to bring someone back from the dead, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, yes, you would," Ileana muttered, shaking her head and turning away. "It was only a thought."

But perhaps a thought that might be worth further exploration should Dracula ever be successful again with her uncle's work…

"I can look into it, if you like?" Stark said softly, "I won't tell him."

"No, it's quite alright," Ileana insisted as she turned on the balls of her feet and gestured back toward the main workroom. "I do have questions, if you have the time?"

"Of course."

"I'd like you to show me how it works…"

"What works?"

Ileana grinned, her eyes alight as she studied the cluttered lab through the doorway, "Everything."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS/ARBITRARY WINTER BREAK! This chapter was supposed to be part of my Fanfiction Winter Package, in which I would update every single story (with chapter lengths just between 2500-3000 words). Unfortunately, I only got around to three, but the other two will have to be written sometime before the New Year. **

**Now, I know the updates continue to be long with this story, but I can't really offer much else up. I do have the muse for it, but it's fleeting, and I tend to work on it when I really have the inspiration. I have noticed it's been added to a lot of favourite/alert lists lately, so I thank you all for that! **

**MUCH LOVE, DARLINGS! ENJOY THE HOLIDAYS!**


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